


The Lies We Tell Ourselves

by Jade4813



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fake Dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23417008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade4813/pseuds/Jade4813
Summary: Max would do absolutely anything for Zoey. Including posing as her fake boyfriend to give her father one last "big moment" to celebrate with her. Nothing could possibly go wrong. After all, it's only his heart that stands to be broken. Right?Takes place after "Zoey's Extraordinary Glitch."
Relationships: Zoey Clarke/Max Richman
Comments: 147
Kudos: 311





	1. Chapter 1

“Max, I need your help.”

He froze, his cup of coffee an inch from his face. Things were awkward between him and Zoey. Had been since he confessed his feelings to her. Or maybe since she gained the ability to hear his feelings through song. The situation had hardly been improved when she sang a love song to him in return before immediately turning around and singing a heartsong to Simon.

He tried not to think about that. His heart was bruised, leaving him a conflicted wreck. He was trying to keep some measure of distance from her to protect whatever pieces of his heart didn't already belong to her. But those five little words were his Kryptonite. It didn’t matter if he was hurt, or angry, or heartsick. If Zoey needed him, he’d be there for her. No matter the cost.

“Of course. You know I’m here for you.”

She winced. “Wait. Before you agree, you should know that…what I’m about to ask you, I know it isn’t going to be fair to you. And I _promise_ you, I wouldn’t ask if I had any other choice. But it’s for my dad, and…” She let her voice trail off.

He didn’t even have to think about it. There was nobody in the world more important to him than Zoey, and nobody in the world more important to her at the moment than her father. Whatever she needed, she only had to ask. “Zoey, how can I help?” he reiterated.

She sucked in a deep breath, her fingers dancing anxiously along the curve of her cup. “I went over to my parents’ last night. We’re – we’re trying –” She broke off, needing to take a few deep breaths before she could continue. “There are some end-of-life decisions we have to make for my dad. Anyway, I heard my mom and brother talking, and she thinks…”

“Yes?” he prompted when her voice trailed off.

She swiped a hand through her hair, brushing it off of her face. “She thinks he’s worried about me. Or at least that he’s sad that he’ll miss out on so many of those big moments that you know he used to love – _that he loves_ – so much.” He frowned, not immediately clear on what she was asking of him, so she explained, “You know, like seeing me fall in love or get – get married.” Her voice caught on the last word.

It stung a little, hearing her say she wasn’t in love with him, but his feelings weren’t important right now. Pushing them aside, he grabbed her hand, stroking her palm with strong, soothing strokes. “I understand. I just don’t understand how I can help.”

Her face twisted into a grimace. “Well, I was thinking…I need a boyfriend.”

His hand stilled on hers. “You need a what?”

“Not a real boyfriend!” she rushed to explain. “Just…someone who wouldn’t mind pretending to be my boyfriend for a few weeks, until –” She didn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t need to. He knew what she was saying. Until her father was gone.

He was still scrambling to process what she was asking of him. “You want _me_ to –”

“No! Max, I would _never_ ask you to do that. To pretend like that. That would be,” she paused, searching for the word before finally settling on, “cruel. I’m wondering if you know anyone who _could_ …who _would_ …”

“Pretend to date you?” He tried to choose his words carefully, not wanting to hurt her but needing her to see the danger in her plan. He kept his voice soft, but his grip on her hand was firm and comforting. “Zoey…I understand why you want to do this, but…the two of you don’t have a lot of time left. Do you really want to spend the rest of it lying to him?”

She teared up. “He’s my dad,” she said helplessly, her eyes filling with tears. When he saw one trickle down her cheek, he had to fist his hands in his lap to resist the urge to brush it away. “If it’ll make him happy, it’s worth it, isn’t it?”

He leaned back, breathing a heavy sigh. Yes. If it would make Mitch happy, if it would make _Zoey_ happy, it was worth it. Though he couldn’t pretend to be thrilled at the prospect of watching her date someone else, even if it was all pretend. “So you want my help finding you a fake boyfriend.”

He rubbed one hand across his face, thinking through his options. Simon was clearly out, which Max was ashamed to say gave him a tiny measure of relief. As desperate as Zoey was for a fake boyfriend, he doubted even she would be willing to ask Leif. Or Tobin. “Kevin from Accounts Payable?”

She groaned. “He eloped last week.”

“Really?” he asked, flashing her a quick grin. “Good for him!” Tapping his fingers against the table, he tried again. “Hank from Operations?”

“In Maui for the next two weeks. First vacation he’s taken in three years.”

Max sighed. A few other co-workers came to mind, but if they weren’t in committed relationships, there was no way that Zoey’s parents would ever buy them as plausible boyfriends. He made one last, desperate attempt. “Doesn’t Mo know anyone? Have you asked him?”

She shook her head. “Not really. The problem is, they’re all strangers. I was hoping I could find someone I might have at least _mentioned_ to them before. It’ll be more believable if it’s someone I’ve known for a while and we can pretend we just realized we'd fallen in love.”

He managed a wry smile, but he managed to refrain from pointing out the painful irony of that comment. “Yeah, I guess. I just don’t know anyone like that, that you could ask.”

Zoey was visibly crestfallen. “Yeah, that was my problem too. Do you think if I posted an online ad…”

“No, that’s _way_ too dangerous!” He ran his hand down his face again. “Okay, I know you don’t want to consider this, but…what about me?”

“Max, no! I told you I’d never ask you to do that!”

He shrugged, offering her a hopeless little smile. “You’re not asking. I’m offering.” She threw him a mutinous look, so he leaned forward and prepared to make his case. “Look, I really appreciate that you’re trying to protect me, but put my feelings aside for a few minutes. If you look at this critically, it’s the only thing that makes sense. We’ve been friends for a long time, and your parents know how close we are. We can totally convince them we fell in love at some point along the way. I know about your powers. I know why this is so important to you.”

Her hair whipped around as she shook her head. “No. Absolutely not. Max, I can’t…I don’t…” He stared at her, is gaze steady and unblinking, until she managed helplessly, “Things between the two of us have been…complicated, and if we pretend we’re dating, I’m worried it will make things worse! I don’t want to lose you, and I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

He tried to offer her a reassuring smile, but he was afraid whatever he managed was a pale imitation of the expression. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that. You know how I feel about you, and I know,” he paused, searching for the words. He would say he knew how she felt about him, but did he? Maybe it wasn’t her fault because of her powers, but the signals he’d received from her had been decidedly mixed. “I know how you feel about how I feel about you, I guess,” he finished lamely.

“Max –” she tried, in one final protest.

“Zoey, it’s okay. I know it won’t be real, and I know it’s for your dad. You don’t have to worry about me. I won’t get the wrong idea. Let me do this for you. Let me do this for Mitch. You know what he means to me. If doing this will make his final days any easier, if it’ll make him realize he doesn’t have to worry about you, then it’s worth it.” He could see she was wavering, so he pressed, “Let me do this. Please.”

She still looked uncertain, but she said, “Are you absolutely sure about this?”

He wasn’t. He had a feeling that, his reassurances aside, this was going to hurt. It was probably a terrible idea. Oh, he’d still remember that she didn’t love him, but letting himself give in to his feelings for her, even if it was only for pretend? There was no way he would get out of this with whatever shreds of his heart remained intact. But it was for her. It was for Mitch, a man who had acted more like a father to him than his own.

Zoey and Mitch needed him, and he’d be there for them. No matter the cost. How could he do anything less?

“I’m sure.”

Her smile was shaky. “All right.”

Telling himself he could do this and keep a firm grip on his emotions, he lifted his coffee cup in a fake toast. “All right, fake girlfriend. Where do we begin?”


	2. Chapter 2

“You know, we should probably get our story straight before we go in,” Zoey remarked later that evening as they walked slowly along the sidewalk to her parents’ house. She didn’t seem to be in any hurry to reach their destination, and he was sure that she was dreading the decisions that lie ahead concerning her father. Of course, he knew she was probably also nervous about their planned subterfuge. He couldn’t say he felt entirely confident in their plan, but since he couldn’t do anything to take away the pain of the former, he would do everything he could to carry the weight of the latter.

He slipped his fingers in hers, running his thumb along the soft skin along the back of her hand. “Which part?”

Making a soft sound in the back of her throat, she began to swing their arms back and forth – a gesture that would have seemed casual and even playful if her tension and anxiety didn’t lead her to all but rip his arm out of its socket. “You know, like how long we’ve been dating. How we started. All of it. Basically, the whole story.”

Max stumbled, pretending to catch his foot on a crack in the pavement but using his forward momentum to pull her to a stop. This wouldn’t do. If she couldn’t relax into the lie a little, they’d never pull it off. Pretending to be lost in thought, he shifted his hold on the paper bag he was carrying and reached over to rub his sore shoulder. “Two weeks. We’ve been dating two weeks.”

“Why two weeks?” she asked with a slight frown.

He shrugged, thankful that he still could. “It’s long enough that we would have had time to decide we’re serious about our relationship and it isn’t a mistake. But it’s not so long that it’s weird you didn’t tell your family about us sooner.”

She took a moment to consider his logic. “All right. So how did it start? Why did we decide to start dating after all this time? Who made the first move?”

He pretended to give it some thought. “Well, clearly, you hit on me because I’m _irresistible_ and you just couldn’t help yourself. Serenading me by singing George Michael’s ‘Faith’ underneath my window in the middle of the night may have been a little much, but it got the point across.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but she was grinning when she tugged on his hand and demanded, “Come on, be serious!”

Max sighed, his smile slipping. The truth was, he knew exactly how they should say it started, but he suspected she wouldn’t like it. _It’s fake. It’s all an act_ , he reminded himself sternly. _It doesn’t mean anything_. He had a feeling he’d be reminding himself of that a lot over the next few weeks. With that thought firmly in mind, he said gravely, “All right, all joking aside, that one’s easy. I hired a flash mob to tell you that I’m in love with you. You were – understandably – a little freaked out at first, and you weren’t sure what you wanted. But then you decided you wanted to give this – _us_ – a shot.”

A flash of pain crossed her face, and she tried to pull away but he didn’t release her hand. “Max, please. I didn’t –”

He shifted closer, needing her to understand. “No, wait. Hear me out. I promise you that I’m not saying this to hurt you or to make you feel guilty. That’s the last thing you need right now. But the best lies have some truth to them. It makes them easier to sell and easier to remember.” It would also make it less likely that they would inadvertently tell conflicting stories if asked something they didn’t expect. “If we base our fake relationship on something that actually happened, when they ask you where you were when it happened, or what song I sang, or what you said when the song was over, you won’t have to remember a hundred lies.”

She clearly wasn’t convinced. Dropping her gaze to the ground, she shifted her weight back and forth and protested, “But even if we have to base it on something that actually happened, we don’t have to say it was that. We could pick something else, like –”

“Like you and I came up with the ridiculous idea to sing ‘Pressure’ together at a huge meeting with SPRQ Point’s founder, and you realized when I was playing air piano next to you that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me?” he offered in a lighthearted tone, afraid she was about to suggest their relationship started after she sang ‘I’m Yours’ to him. Because the truth was, he hadn’t been able to believe she was actually singing a love song to him at first. And for a few minutes after she sang her heartsong, he really had let himself hope that she might feel the same way about him that he felt about her. That she wanted to pursue a relationship with him, when she was ready. That she had realized that she loved him.

For Mitch’s sake, he could pretend they were dating. But that memory was one that would always be a little bittersweet for him – the moment he thought had everything he ever wanted, just to lose it a little while later. He was still trying to come to terms with the fact he’d only been lying to himself. He couldn’t imagine the pain that would come if he offered up that lie now as the truth.

But while she could read his emotions through song, she couldn’t read his mind. “What about when I –”

He would give her anything she asked for. Almost. “Zoey, no. Please. I think I know what you’re about to say, and…not that. Anything but that.”

Feeling raw and exposed, he tried to deflect back to humor. “Anyway, whatever we decide, I’m fine with everyone thinking you found my singing so romantic that it fake-swept you off your feet and you couldn’t help but pretend-date me.” _That’s it. You can’t afford to forget that it’s all fake, Max. None of this is real._ He hated that she still looked so serious and so sad, so he continued to joke, “And you know, so far, fake dating isn’t all that bad. It’s like having all of the companionship with none of the pressure to actually buy you something for your birthday.” She didn’t need to know that he’d had her birthday gift picked out for the past three months.

She snorted, rolling her eyes at him, but some tension left her shoulders and she seemed relieved by the shift in tone. “Oh, yeah? So what’s that?” Stretching up onto her toes, she tried to peer into the bag he was carrying.

He twisted his upper body, pulling the bag just out of her reach. “Hey, now! This isn’t for you, it’s for your parents! Our relationship may be fake, but your mother’s pot roast is _real_.”

He could tell she wanted to glower at him, but a tiny smile hid at the corners of her mouth, undermining her attempt to appear fierce. “One of these days, we should talk about the fact that you’re _almost_ funny, but you’re not _actually_ funny,” she scolded him.

He crinkled his brow and pursed his lips, his face a study in exaggerated contemplation. “Hm. I don’t know, Zo. You always seemed to find me pretty funny before.” 

Zoey sniffed, tossing her head back as she strove to meet his lighthearted mood. “I was only pretending. As your real friend, I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. But now, as your fake girlfriend, I feel like it’s my duty to tell you the truth.” He felt an odd sort of twist in his chest when she presented him with that juxtaposition – real friend, fake girlfriend – but he forced himself not to let it show. Instead, he focused on the fact that her voice had cracked a little on the word “girlfriend.” Was it just guilt that she’d be lying to her parents, or was she concerned they wouldn’t be able to pull it off?

Max wished he had more time to come up with some way to reassure her, but he knew her parents were expecting them for dinner. He didn’t want her to be late, so he resumed their slow pace towards Max and Maggie’s.

Her voice was subdued when she continued, “All right, so, um…how…how serious are we?”

 _I’m pretty sure I want to spend the rest of my life with you._ Nope. That wouldn’t do. _It’s an act. It’s an act. It’s all just an act._ He would get those words through his own thick head if it killed him. Trying to retain the lighthearted mood between them, he replied, “Clearly we’re pretty serious since you told me I’m not funny.” He grinned when his joke eliciting a laugh from her for the first time that evening.

“Max, that was a terrible joke! That was a _dad joke_ level of terrible joke! And you know what I mean! You and me. Our fake relationship. How – uh – how serious is it?”

He looked away, not sure what she meant. She couldn’t possibly be asking him if he was planning to fake date anybody else at the same time, could she? One fake relationship at a time was enough for any man! Particularly when he was hopelessly in love with the – _No. Do NOT go there, Max Richman._ Stifling a groan of frustration at his own stupid head – and his own stupid heart – he returned his attention to her and replied, “It’s pretty serious, right? I mean, isn’t that the whole point? You want your dad to think that we’re in love?”

Zoey made a soft sound of distress, pulling him to a stop again, just when he’d been about to turn onto the walk up to her parents’ front door. “Max, you know what I mean! Are we – do – have we –”

In the faint light of the nearby streetlamp, he could see her cheeks flush red and suddenly realized what she meant. “Are you asking if we’ve had sex?” He would have stumbled for real this time if he could even move, but his entire body had gone numb at the thought, and he was desperately trying to ignore the image that came immediately to mind. _It’s fake. It’s not real. It’s all an act. It’s fake. It’s fake. Oh my god, it’s fake._ “Please tell me your mother isn’t going to ask if we’ve had sex, because that is a conversation I am not sure I’m ready to have.”

“Of course not! I’m just trying to get a,” she paused, waving her hands in the air between them as she searched for the right word, “a baseline for our relationship. I think you’re different with someone you’ve had sex with than someone you haven’t, don’t you? Even if it’s just fake sex.”

God. Just hearing her _say_ sex was the most erotic thing he’d ever – _NO! IT’S FAKE IT’S FAKE IT’S FAKE IT’S FAKE IT’S FAKE!_

He could not let himself go there, even in pretense, so he feigned an affronted gasp to cover up for his pained groan. “Absolutely not! What kind of man do you take me for? I will have you know, Zoey Clarke, that you better not be fake dating me just for my body!” That was okay, right? Mentioning his body? It was the kind of teasing that couples did all the time! Wasn’t it? _Fake couples. Because none of this is real. Oh, god. There isn’t a song about fake dating, is there? Or not wanting to be fake dating? No, wait! Don’t even think about it! If you think about it, you might start psychically singing it, and then she’ll – she’s looking at you weird. Is that what she’s hearing? Is she hearing you sing to her right now? Quick! Think of something innocent! Um..uh…Puff, the Magic Dragon, lived by the sea…_

She shot a quick look at her parents’ house and then back to him. As she always did when she was anxious and uncomfortable, she spoke a little too loudly when she joked, “Yeah, but…it’s not a bad body.”

 _Lived by the sea, and frolicked in the autumn mist in…_ Wait, had she just said what he thought she said? His mental soundtrack skipped abruptly to a different song. _Oh, look into my eyes, you will see. What you mean to – Max, NO._ He couldn’t imagine what she saw on his face because she blanched, while he was pretty sure he made a sound something like, “glahurk.”

“I crossed a line, didn’t I? I just thought, if we’re going to pretend to be a couple…couples joke like that, don’t they? And I –”

“It’s fine,” he reassured her. _Don’t tell me it’s not worth tryin’ for._ No. He had to stop this. He didn’t even like Bryan Adams! _You can’t tell me it’s not worth dyin’ for._ Gritting his teeth, he stared into her eyes and took two long breaths, trying to slow his racing heart and remind himself what he was even doing here.

He was here because Zoey needed him. And she needed him to be her fake boyfriend much more than she needed to be burdened by his real feelings right now. He was here because he was willing to do whatever it took to make Mitch happy in his final days.

Feeling once again clear, calm, and focused, he tucked his free hand under her chin, stroking the curve of her jaw with his thumb, his touch so light that he wasn’t sure if he’d imagine the softness of her skin. His voice was barely above a whisper as he said, “Of course it’s fine. Couples joke like that all the time. Even fake couples. I was just surprised, that’s all. This fake dating thing is going to take a little getting used to, for both of us. But we can do this. Together. Okay?” She nodded, but she still looked uncertain. “There’s something that’s still bothering you. What is it?”

She sighed, a tiny puff of air that lifted the stray strands of hair that curled across her cheek. “There is something, but it seems like too much to put on you, when you’re already doing so much for me already.” When her eyes darted away, he didn’t press her for an explanation; he just wanted until she was ready. “When I went over to see Mo earlier, he was there with Eddie. They, um, they _kissed_ , and I was wondering if you – if you thought –”

The butterflies in his stomach went into overdrive as he realized what she was asking him. Were they going to have to kiss to sell this fiction? Could he even do it? Fake kissing wasn’t exactly the same as pretending that their movie nights had been fictional dates. Fake kissing was exactly like real kissing – only in this case, without the love. He honestly didn’t know if he’d be able to kiss Zoey and not let himself believe on some level that it was real. He wasn’t sure he could kiss her and not want to forget that, for her, it was all an act. He could kiss her, but she wouldn’t really be kissing back, and he wasn’t sure his heart could take that.

“Oh. I – I –” he stammered.

Before he could even begin to think of what to say next, he heard Maggie call out from her front porch, “Zoey? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, thank god,” Max breathed, grabbing her hand and leading her up the walk. They could hardly talk about how to navigate fake kisses with her mother looking on. Of course, they would have to address the issue eventually, but he needed a little more time. Or a lot more time.

His relief at Maggie’s interruption was genuine, so the bright smile he threw her as he escorted Zoey through the front door wasn’t entirely feigned. “Hey, Zoey said you didn’t mind if I join you all for dinner tonight. I hope it’s not an imposition –”

“Of course not,” Maggie reassured him quickly as she leaned forward to give her daughter a quick hug. “You know you’re always welcome here, Max.” When she stepped back, she took the bag he offered her with a small measure of surprise. “What’s this?”

“The flowers are for you, the wine is for dinner, and the ridiculous amount of gelato is for Mitch. A new place just opened down the street from my apartment, and I thought he might want to try it out. I may have overdone it a bit. Everything I’ve tried there has been so good, I couldn’t decide which he’d like the best, so I asked them to surprise me. The girls behind the counter picked their favorites, and I got a pint of each.”

Maggie laughed, juggling his bag. “Well, thank you. That’s – that’s very thoughtful of you. I’m sure Mitch will love them. He’s just in the other room, if you want to go in. Zoey, do you want to help me find some room in the freezer?”

“Ah, sure. Be right there,” Zoey murmured, hesitating by Max’s side as her mom disappeared around the corner. “That was really sweet, bringing all that for my dad. Was that because of our _situation_ , or –?”

He smiled down at her, shaking his head slightly. “No, that really was just for Mitch. I actually picked them up a couple of nights ago, but I haven’t had a chance to bring them by.” Wrapping his arm around her waist, he leaned towards her and whispered, “Now, driving you crazy by not letting you get a peek into the bag? That was just for fun. But if you want to grab some gelato on a fake date, I’m sure I can arrange that.”

“It’s a fake date,” she said with a chuckle, elbowing him gently in the ribs before following her mom into the kitchen. Max’s gaze lingered on her until she disappeared around the corner. As he moved into the living room to join Mitch on the couch, he couldn’t quite hide the smile she left behind.

* * *

As she entered the kitchen, Zoey joined her mom at the refrigerator, where she was grabbing items to assemble a cheese plate. “How can I help?” she asked.

Her mom turned, letting the refrigerator close behind her. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about this. I’ve got it.” A beat of silence followed, in which Zoey waited for the other shoe to drop. “So, that was very sweet of Max, bringing all that gelato for Mitch.”

And there it was. “Yeah, he’s a thoughtful guy,” she agreed, leaning against the counter as she grabbed a handful of grapes and added them to the tray, more to have an excuse not to meet her mother’s eyes than anything. When she first formulated her plan, she briefly considered letting her mom in on the truth. In the end, she decided against it; even if her mom understood what she was doing and why, she didn’t want her parents’ last days together to be tarnished by lies.

“Zoey,” Maggie said firmly, waiting until her daughter met her eyes to ask, “What is going on with you two?”

“What? We’re just friends!” she protested. Now that the moment was upon her, she wasn’t sure how to sell the lie.

Her mother arched her eyebrows. “I saw the two of you outside. You didn’t look like you were just friends.”

This was it. She either had to commit to this entire fake dating scheme or she had to pull the plug right now. She lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug, her fingers toying idly with the discarded wrapping from the wheel of brie. “It’s…complicated,” she admitted – quite possibly the most honest thing she would ever say about this situation. Before she could second-guess her decision, she blurted, “Max and I decided to try dating. We have been dating, I mean. For a couple of weeks.”

If her mom was surprised, she didn’t show it. “All right. Well…how’s it going?”

She huffed, tossing the discarded wrappers aside. “I don’t know. Great!” Was that overselling it? “Good? They’re going…fine.” Maybe that was underselling it. She didn’t know! She wasn’t a great liar at the best of times, and this was hardly the best of times. Trying to recover, she explained, “It’s just complicated. You know, he’s my friend. He’s my _best_ friend. I can’t help but think…if things go wrong…and also, you know, with this thing with dad, is this really the best time to be worrying about a relationship?” For someone who had come into the kitchen determined to lie, she was confessing a little too much of the truth. Scared of what she might say next, she snapped her mouth shut, pressing her lips together.

“Oh, Zoey,” her mom said, wrapping an arm around her. “I know this is difficult, but you know, whatever happens with your father, he only wants you to be happy. That’s all he’s ever wanted. All either of us have ever wanted. If Max makes you happy, then I think having him in your life right now? It couldn’t come at a better time.” She leaned back and brushed some hair off her daughter’s face. “What happened with Simon?”

She scoffed. “Oh, that is _over_ ,” she reassured her. “Completely. Totally. Nothing to worry about there.” Certainly nothing like her singing a sexy song to him – mere minutes after singing a love song to Max. Inadvertently breaking Max’s heart. And then kissing Simon in his office. While he was still engaged. And then avoiding him so they couldn’t talk about either the song or the kiss.

Talk about complicated.

“Hm. Well, as I told you before, whatever you decide, your father and I will always support you. We never wanted all of this to keep you from living your life and experiencing all those wonderful things we knew were ahead for you, like falling in love. I’m just glad you’ve finally realized you found the love that you were looking for.”

Zoey’s head paused mid-nod as she processed her mother’s words. That was a weird way of phrasing it, wasn’t it? Why not just say that she’s happy Zoey _found_ the love she was looking for? “What do you mean, that I’ve finally realized it?” Maggie scoffed, picking up the tray and heading into the living room. Temporarily forgetting Max was waiting for her – and she might not want him to hear what her mother had to say – she followed quickly behind, swiping the bottle of wine on her way out the door. “Mom?”

“Well, come on, Zoey! It’s been obvious the two of you have been crazy about each other for years! We just honestly wondered if either of you would ever open your eyes and see it.”

“What? I – we – n-no! We aren’t – I mean, we are, but we weren’t –” she stammered, feeling her face grow red as she met Max’s eyes. His startled expression melted into a self-satisfied smile. Then she saw a quick flash of some emotion pass his face, but he looked away before she could figure out what it was. When he looked back at her a moment later, his expression was masked with a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. Meanwhile, Zoey wanted to curl up into a ball somewhere and hide.

“It looks like you guys have been a couple of steps ahead of us the whole time, but I’m glad we finally caught up,” Max interjected smoothly over Zoey’s incoherent stuttering. He scooted around the chair to wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her against his side, and she took a deep breath and leaned into him, grateful for the comfort of his presence. Staring down into her eyes, he murmured softly, “It took me longer than it should have to realize, but I couldn’t go on pretending I’m not absolutely crazy about Zoey for forever, could I?”

_It’s all an act. He doesn’t mean it. Well, he might have meant it, if it weren’t all an act. But we already agreed that anything we said to each other right now doesn’t mean anything. Don’t forget that this was all your brilliant idea._

She realized he had fallen silent, probably waiting for her to say something in response. But she was too lost in his eyes to think of something to say. Her gaze fell to his lips, and she wondered – not for the first time in the last few months – how it would feel to kiss him. Sucking in a breath, she swayed closer to him, silently urging him to meet her halfway, but he released her and stepped away before their lips could meet.

“Where’s David and Emily?” he asked abruptly, taking the bottle from Zoey and heading to the wine cabinet to grab a few glasses.

Zoey hoped his apparent rejection had gone unnoticed, but she caught her mom throwing the two of them a quizzical look as she replied, “Oh, you know how it is. He got a little tied up with work, but they should be on his way. In fact, I think I hear them at the door now.”

And as easily as that, the moment was lost.


	3. Chapter 3

What would she do without Max? It was a question she’d asked herself several times over the years, but never as often or with as much heartfelt gratitude as over the last few days. He couldn’t heal her father or take away her pain, but he had made her laugh over dinner and offered her silent support and unrelenting strength for the conversation that followed. And when she told him she wanted to spend the weekend alone in her apartment, processing her grief, he didn’t try to convince her to go out and be social. Instead, he spent the weekend sending her ridiculous memes and corny jokes that made her laugh and, for a few minutes at least, took her mind off her sorrow.

She was stepping out of the café, fortifying cup of coffee and lemon poppyseed muffin in hand, when her phone beeped to notify her of an incoming text. Zoey was smiling before she even grabbed her phone, already knowing who it would be. Her smile turned into a snort of laughter when she saw Max pick up their conversation from where they’d left it off the night before.

_“I think we really need to get everyone at work in on this because it’s really important to me that you accept that you’re wrong. In fact, you’re so wrong, I’m a little worried about how you could think you were right about this.”_

_“You’re out of your mind! I’m totally right about this!”_ she wrote back quickly. _“A T-Rex would totally take the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man!”_

Three ellipses appeared at the bottom of the screen, followed by Max’s response. _“A T-Rex is 20 feet tall. Tops. Mr. Stay Puft was 112.5 feet. There’s no competition! One step and it’s over!”_

Zoey had to veer to the edge of the sidewalk to perch on a concrete barrier was she typed out her reply. _“Did you honestly just Google that?”_

She didn’t have to wait long for his response. _“Of course I did! This is serious business!”_

_“Dork.”_

A few ellipses briefly showed up at the bottom of the screen, but when they disappeared, no message followed. She continued, _“You’re forgetting that, according to Jurassic Park, the T-Rex is so much faster than the marshmallow man. AND he was a finely honed murderbeast. He gets a few lucky bites in on the legs, and it’s over!”_

_“T-Rex may be faster, but how wide is Stay Puft’s gait?”_

She shook her head, looking around to make sure nobody saw the goofy smile on her face as she teased him over text, _“I’m surprised you didn’t Google it.”_

His response made her laugh out loud. _“I tried, but I couldn’t find anything. The geeks of the Internet have really let me down.”_

Zoey shot off one last quick text before picking up her coffee and muffin and resuming her walk to work. She was going to be late if she didn’t hurry. _“Is this really what you think about in the morning when you’re getting ready for work? It’s a wonder you aren’t late more often.”_

 _“I multitask.”_ A few minutes later, her phone chirped again. She paused long enough to throw her empty muffin bag into the trash and then read the message on the screen. _“Can we at least agree that Godzilla could take both of them?”_

 _“How tall is Godzilla?”_ she asked, absolutely certain he’d already looked it up.

 _“164 feet originally. The new Godzilla is about 984 feet tall. And, let’s face it. That’s ridiculous.”_ He was such an adorable dork.

_“Oh, yeah. Totally. And Godzilla would toast them both.”_

_“Was that a pun? Did you actually just text me a pun??? If we weren’t already fake-dating, I’d fake-ask you out just for that.”_

_“I couldn’t help myself!”_

Her self-satisfied smile morphed into a soft “aww” when she received his next text, with an attached photo. _“Also, I saw puppy yesterday and thought of you. It’s in boots. BOOTS!”_

Zoey was so distracted by Max’s texts that she was stepping on the elevator leading up to the SPRQ Point offices before she realized she hadn’t thought about her dad’s condition once that morning. She had absolutely no doubt that had been his purpose all along, but he was once again touched by his quiet thoughtfulness.

She was trying to think of the words to text him to express her gratitude when the elevator doors started to slide closed. At the last second, Simon darted through the opening and joined her on the elevator. “Hey,” he greeted her warmly, meeting her eyes briefly before their gazes darted away. “Listen, I was hoping that the two of us could talk. About what happened in my office the other day.”

She shifted her weight, edging away from him as she looked down at her feet and slipped her phone back into her pocket. “Yeah, I know. Look, I know that I made things complicated when I sang to you. I wish I could explain what happened to me that day, but I can’t.” She’d briefly considered telling him about her powers, but she doubted that would help the situation much. If anything, telling him their friendship started after she heard him singing about his sorrow when he was alone in the office would only complicate things. More than she had already. “I know this is going to be hard to believe, particularly given my behavior the other day. But I’m not trying to get between you and Jessica.”

He nodded slowly. “I know, and I appreciate that. I hope I haven’t given you the wrong impression. Ever since I lost my dad, it’s been nice to have someone to talk to who understands what I’ve been going through. You’re a good friend, Zoey. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” she reassured him with a smile. “I will always be your friend, Simon. I think we just need time, you know?” Before he could point out the obvious, she winced and let out an apologetic little laugh, trying to cover her embarrassment with a joke. “Okay, I know I said that before, but this time, lap dances are _totally_ off the table. I promise.”

He grinned over at her. “So that’s not something you do with all your friends? That’s a shame.”

“Not really. I was trying something new. I wouldn’t recommend it.” The elevator doors slid open, and she stepped through, expecting that Simon would turn immediately towards his office. Instead, he followed her.

“Can I ask you a question? You and Max. Are the two of you…?”

She hesitated, looking around to make sure they weren’t being overheard. In all honesty, she wasn’t entirely sure what to say. They’d talked about maintaining the fiction for her family, but they’d failed to address whether their lie would carry over into work. Or maybe they’d deliberately avoided it. Either way, she wasn’t sure what she should tell Simon now. She wasn’t entirely sure what she _wanted_ to tell him. “Me and Max?” She glanced around the office, but it appeared she’d beaten Max to the office.

At a loss, she shook her head. “No, we’re friends. Just friends.” But even though she knew it was the truth, the words tasted like a lie. Or a betrayal. She was Max’s boss, so it was entirely possible that their unusual arrangement could cause problems for them at work. It was possible he would prefer to keep it between them. On the other hand, if he didn’t, it would undoubtedly hurt him to know she was denying it – particularly to Simon. “Well, I mean…I guess we’re kind of dating. Maybe?”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Maybe kind of dating? What does that mean?”

Heaving a heavy sigh, she mumbled, “It means…it’s complicated?” If her life was going to continue being so convoluted, she was going to have to find different ways to describe it or quantify it on a sliding scale of difficulty or something. She should buy a thesaurus, at the very least. “The thing is, we haven’t been dating for very long, I guess? And I’m not even sure if that’s how we would describe it! Or that Max would describe it that way. As dating, I mean.” Did it sound too much like she assumed he _wouldn’t_ want to admit it, like she thought he’d be embarrassed by their relationship? She scrambled to recover. Waving one hand helplessly in the air, she blurted, “Or maybe he would! You should ask him.” Wait. What if Simon asked him before she’d had a chance to warn him, and Max panicked and said the wrong thing? “Later. Or not!” For crying out loud, this was getting ridiculous. She had to stop. She was only making it worse.

Simon didn’t seem put off by her ridiculous rambling. “Well, whatever’s going on with you two, he’s a very lucky guy.”

“Thanks,” she told his retreating back as he headed toward his office. She couldn’t waste time reliving her conversation with Simon, picking apart every sentence to torture herself with thoughts of what she should have done differently. She had to catch Max before anything else happened.

She tried to find reasons to casually lurk near the elevators. She was pretending to examine some chipped paint near the baseboard when she saw him enter. “Max!” she hissed, jumping to her feet.

He let out a small yelp of surprise, spinning around to face her. “Zoey! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

She didn’t wait for him to catch his breath. “I need to talk to you. Meet me in the meditation room in five minutes. Act natural! Oh, and don’t talk to anyone.” Without waiting for him to respond, she walked back to her desk, projecting such a forced air of nonchalance that she felt she might as well hold up a neon sign saying she was up to no good.

Still, when she snuck into the meditation room a few minutes later, she found him already waiting for her there. He rushed up to her, framing her shoulders in his hands. “Zoey, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“It’s funny you ask me that, because you’re going to have to tell me. The thing is – and I know I should have talk to you about this first – but we have to pretend to be dating here. At work.”

Whatever he’d expected, she could tell by the expression on his face it hadn’t been that. “Okay. I guess that’s…okay.” She saw a line form between his brows as he tried to process the ramifications of what she was saying. “Why? What happened?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and stepped out of his reach, burning off some nervous energy by pacing back and forth. “I kind of panicked when I was talking to Simon this morning.”

“Simon? You told Simon? Why – how did it come up?”

She didn’t even need to look at him to hear the astonishment in his voice. In fact, not looking at him was easier. “He sort of…asked me if there was something going on between us, and I said we were maybe kind of dating.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Max shake his head, as though trying to clear away some mental cobwebs. “ _Simon_ asked you if there was something between us. And you told him – _Simon_ – that we were dating,” he reiterated.

Rolling her eyes, Zoey turned on him. “Are you planning on repeating everything I say? Because we don’t have a lot of time before people realize we’re hiding out in here and get suspicious!”

“I seriously doubt anyone has noticed we’re missing,” he reassured her. “And, no, I won’t repeat _everything_ you say. I’m just…processing. Making sure I’m clear about what happened. You know, to make sure I have our story straight.” But he didn’t look like he was overly concerned with nailing down the details. In fact, he looked overjoyed. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear he was practically glowing from the grin on his face.

Her eyes narrowing in suspicion, she said, “I hope you’re not getting the wrong idea. This doesn’t really change anything.” She remembered how he’d reacted when she’d unwillingly sung him a love song, and she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. Again.

“I know,” he agreed, a little too readily.

“And you’re okay with keeping up our act here at work? It might cause some problems with Joan.”

His smile didn’t so much as falter. “I can honestly say, whatever happens with Joan, I’m totally fine with it.”

Zoey stared at Max for a long moment, wondering if she should ask why he wasn’t upset that their personal fiction was going to interfere with their professional lives. He seemed to be in an inordinately good mood, given she’d just lobbed a bomb at him. But maybe it was a better idea to leave well enough alone. From his texts throughout the morning, he’d seemed to be in a good mood. Maybe she was just being paranoid.

While she wrestled with whether or not to press him on the issue, he rubbed his hand together and said, “Anyway, I should probably get back to work before I get in trouble with The Boss for goofing off.”

Somewhat reassured that he’d taken the decision out of her hands, she gestured toward the door. “Oh, yeah. We wouldn’t want that! I hear your boss is a real task master!”

“She can be,” he agreed, and though he’d been the one to suggest he take his leave, he lingered by her side. “But I have a soft spot for her anyway.”

He leaned down, and for a second, she could have sworn he was about to kiss her. Her breath caught in her throat and she froze, staring at him with wide eyes as she waited to see what he would do. After a moment’s hesitation, he turned his head and brushed his lips across her cheek. Bewildered by an unexpected sense of disappointment, Zoey didn’t move and found herself entirely unable to speak as she watched him leave, humming merrily to himself as he walked out the door.

* * *

She had told Simon about their fake-relationship. _She had told Simon about their fake-relationship!_ Of all people, she had told _Simon_ about their fake-relationship!

Barely able to believe it, he kept repeating the words to himself, over and over. Of course, he knew it didn’t really matter. It certainly didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean that she might have decided that she wanted to choose love over attraction, after all. It didn’t mean that she would want to pursue a relationship with him at some point. It didn’t even mean that she’d made a decision about what she really wanted. It didn’t mean anything.

But it felt like it meant something – or like it _could_ mean something, at least. It felt like it could mean a lot.

It didn’t matter what happened with the rest of his day. He doubted his mood would be brought down, even if Joan fired him for his supposed relationship. Simon had asked Zoey what was going on between the two of them – and Max would love to know what had prompted _that_ question – and she could have said anything. She could have denied it. She could have evaded the question. She could have even told him the truth, that it was all pretend. Instead, she’d told him they were dating.

Nope. Nothing could possibly bring down his day. He was in such a good mood, he found himself singing softly as he headed back to his desk. In fact, he was having a hard time resisting the urge to break out into an impromptu dance. _“I used to think maybe you loved me, now baby I’m sure. And I just can’t wait ‘til the day when you knock on my door. Now every time I go to the mailbox, gotta hold myself down. Cause I just can’t wait ‘til you write me you’re coming around._

_“I’m walking on sunshine, whoa! I’m walking on sunshine, whoa! I’m walking on sunshine, whoa! And don’t it feel good?”_


	4. Chapter 4

“So, you want to go on a date tonight?” Max asked, wheeling his chair around the edge of her desk, his tablet balanced on his lap. He saw her shoot a quick glance towards Joan’s office and resisted the urge to follow her gaze. Joan had taken the news of their “relationship” in stride – though, given her current romantic situation, she couldn’t exactly do otherwise. However, she had exercised enough oversight to order that Max report directly to her for the foreseeable future, heading off any accusations of preferential treatment. Still, if they were going to sell the fiction of their relationship, Zoey and Max had agreed they needed to act like a couple, even at work. And that meant being seen going on dates.

And – if Max was very lucky – maybe even flirting in the hallways. But he was getting ahead of himself.

“Ah, sure,” she agreed. “That’d be great.” When she offered him a small smile, he returned the gesture and wheeled back around to his desk. Their first official fake-date. He couldn’t wait.

As it turned out, however, fate had other plans. With Tobin and Leif tackled the next phase for Chirp, it was up to Zoey and Max to troubleshoot the newest problem with the SPRQ Watch. A little after four, Joan called them into her office to notify them that the watch had developed its newest glitch: it was swapping heartrate and step counter data, leading to wildly inaccurate (and somewhat alarming) readouts for both. When she declared they weren’t to go home until it was fixed, Max inwardly groaned. So much for their date. Their fake-date, he corrected himself quickly.

But later that night, hunched over his computer with only Zoey for company, he decided the situation could have been worse. At least he got to be with her.

“You know, you don’t have to stay,” she called out to him, leaning back in her chair to stretch.

Max was a little taken aback by her offer, and he replied, “It’s all right. I’m happy to help.”

She threw him a slight grimace. “Max, please. It’s silly to ruin your whole night. I can take care of this; I think I’m pretty close to identifying the problem. It seems silly for us both to stick around.”

Although he wanted to argue, he changed his mind when he got an idea. “If you’re sure?” he asked, standing and reaching for his jacket.

Zoey looked a little surprised. “Of course I’m sure! Go on! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

But she wouldn’t have to wait that long. When he returned to the office twenty minutes later, she was sitting quietly at her desk, staring morosely at lines of code. “Max? What are you doing here? I thought you went home.”

He held up one of the two bags he was holding, and he saw the exact minute the smell of the food it carried made its way to her desk because her eyes went wide and she straightened in her chair. “You really thought I’d abandon you here by yourself? I thought you knew me better than that,” he chided her gently. “I went for a food run. I figured if we couldn’t go out for our date – our fake-date – then I’d bring our fake-date back here to us.”

“That’s…very thoughtful of you,” she remarked, though she hesitated and threw one last look at her computer screen.

He knew what she was thinking. “Give me five minutes while I set up in the conference room, but then you really need to take a break to eat. The glitch will still be there after dinner, but you won’t be if you pass out from hunger. Plus, brains work better with food.”

“I had food!” she protested, her voice following him to the conference room. “I got some chips from the vending machine earlier!”

“Cheetos are not food,” he called back over his shoulder, sliding the door shut behind him with his foot. Glancing at her desk one more time to make sure she hadn’t followed, he hurried to set the scene.

It took Zoey more like six minutes to find a stopping point in the code she was reviewing and make her way to the conference room, and when she did, he smiled at her gasp of surprise. “What is all this?” she asked.

He held her chair for her as she lowered herself slowly into her seat, looking at the meal he’d spread out before her. “Deli sandwiches from that place you like down the street. They were out of all the good sides, so I’m afraid I was stuck with kale chips.” He paused, considering, before acknowledging, “Which I’m not entirely sure are an actual food. But if we get desperate, I’m sure the vending machine still has some Doritos I can scavenge. I figured you were probably sick of coffee by now, so I got you a cup of hot tea with a little honey instead.” Just the way she liked it.

She nodded absently, as though she was still trying to take it all in. When he saw her finger the edge of the Happy Birthday tablecloth in amazement as he joined on the other side of the table, he threw her a wry look. “Okay, so the convenience store a couple blocks away was pretty low on options. But a first date requires a certain amount of panache. Even a fake one. And this was the best I could do under the circumstances.”

“It’s…amazing. No, really. It’s perfect,” she rushed to reassure him. “But are those really a good idea?” she asked, nodding at the cluster of birthday candles he’d stuck into two cupcakes – makeshift candelabra – in the middle of the table. Darting a cautious look towards the ceiling, she looked around for a sprinkler system.

“Oh, right,” he agreed quickly. He’d been so swept away by the idea for this impromptu date, that thought hadn’t occurred to him. “Maybe we should blow those out. Getting soaked would probably put a damper on the ambiance.”

Zoey picked up one of the muffins and handed him the other. Before blowing it out, however, she suggested, “What do you think? Should we make a wish?”

One corner of his mouth quirked upward. He already had everything he wanted. Well…almost. “Why not? I guess it is tradition.” He watched as she closed her eyes, pondering her own wish. In the faint light of the candles as they cast a soft glow around her face, Max thought she had never been more beautiful. Then she pursed her lips and exhaled quickly, extinguishing the flame.

When she opened her eyes again and saw his candles were still lit, she threw him a puzzled frown. “You didn’t make a wish?”

“I was waiting for you to go first,” he answered. It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t entirely the truth. He’d been too captivated by her to even remember he was holding candles of his own. “I didn’t want to take the chance that we’d confuse any potential wish-granting fairy if we both went at the same time.”

She pressed her lips together, trying not to reward his bad joke with a smile, and he closed his eyes. He didn’t have to ponder his wish. It was the only thing in the world that he really wanted. _I wish…_ a voice in his mind whispered softly as he prepared to blow out the candles. _I wish…_

As they cleaned up after their meal, Zoey remarked, “There’s something I should probably tell you. I actually…well, I was afraid this would be weird. Going on a date with you. A fake date. Going on a fake date with you.”

He threw her a bland look. “Our first romantic fake-date is basically an impromptu birthday party that is somehow set nowhere close to either of our birthdays. That’s not weird?”

He answering bubble of laughter washed over him, sending shivers down his spine. “Okay, weirder,” she acknowledged. “This is actually…very sweet. I just thought, you know…we’ve been friends for a long time. I figured it would be awkward to transition that into a romantic relationship. Even a fake one. Didn’t you?”

Picking up a stray kale chip – which he was still convinced wasn’t real food – he popped it in his mouth as he shrugged. “Not really. I always figured the best relationships start with friendship. If the person you love is also your favorite person in the world, why would it be weird?” Not wanting to spoil the mood by reminding Zoey of the lingering shadow of his own feelings, he focused his attention on his empty chip bag, crumpling it into a tiny ball as he and joked, “I always thought it would be like hanging out with your best friend, only, you know, with more kissing.”

“Are we going to be doing that?” she asked softly, her words freezing him in his place. His arm had been lifted to toss his garbage towards the trash can, but he lowered it slowly to the table as he considered her question. “Kissing, I mean,” she clarified, though it was hardly necessary.

Max sighed, pulling his attention away from the mess as he met her eyes across the table. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

“I wouldn’t bring it up if it weren’t important,” she reassured him, skirting the edge of the table to stand by his died. “But when we were at dinner with David and Emily the other night, she started asking me questions when we were in the kitchen cleaning up.”

“Questions? What kind of questions?” he asked, surprised that she hadn’t mentioned it before.

She waved her hand in the air in a vague gesture. “Oh, I don’t know. Just…questions.” When he just stared at her, she huffed and admitted, “All right, so it kinda felt like a cross-examination, but she’s an attorney. You know how they are. I guess she thought we were acting a little weird.”

He frowned. “Weird how? You think she suspected the truth?”

Zoey looked down, her hands fiddling idly with a discarded napkin. “I don’t know. Maybe not that so much as…um…well, that our relationship may not be…going…well. I tried to explain that we just hadn’t been dating for very long so we were still in the awkward phase of our relationship, but I don’t know how long she’ll buy that.”

With a heavy sigh, Max ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts. “Wow. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, I guess. And, anyway, I thought it probably wouldn’t matter because we would, um, get used to…everything before we saw them again. I’m not trying to push you or anything, if you don’t want to kiss me –”

“That’s not the problem,” he interjected, shaking his head. “The problem is that I _do_ want to kiss you. And that makes this…complicated.”

“But does it have to be?” she asked in a small, pleading voice. “We don’t have to overcomplicate this. We can just think about it like…like shaking hands. But with our mouths.” She gestured vaguely at her lips, which didn't help his ongoing battle to not stare longingly at them, imagining what they would feel like to kiss.

“So, basically, it’s nothing like shaking hands,” he pointed out in a dry tone.

Her tone was apologetic as she explained, “Like I said, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

She had a point, and he knew it. But that didn’t make this any easier. “I…I’m trying, Zoey. Can you give me just a little more time?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Of course.” The silence that fell between them was uncomfortable, filled with all the things they weren’t ready to address between them. Finally, she took a step back and said, “Anyway, I should probably get back to work.”

He nodded, gesturing at the table. “Go ahead. I’ll come help you when I’m done cleaning up.” He leaned over to collect the rest of the trash, but when she disappeared around the corner, he straightened with a sigh.

He should have realized Emily wasn’t going to be easily fooled. She was a very sweet person, when you got to know her, but she wasn’t the most trusting soul on the planet. She was also very protective of the people she cared about. If anyone was going to greet their story with skepticism, it would be her.

Max grimaced as he tossed out the rest of their trash. He knew he needed to get past this. He just didn’t know how. How could he kiss her and not want it to be real?

Because it was for Mitch. Because the whole reason they were in a pretend relationship was to make him happy in his final days. If he wasn’t going to commit wholeheartedly to their charade, what was the point? It had been unfair of him to offer to be Zoey’s pretend boyfriend if he wasn’t willing to follow through.

Or was that just an excuse? He ignored the question.

“Zoey, wait!” Max called out, following her out into the main office area.

“Yes?” she asked, turning around. She was standing by the hanging wicker chairs, where she’d sung her heart song to him not long before, but he tried not to think about that.

He stopped a couple of feet away from her, feeling inexplicably awkward and unsure. “You’re right. There’s no point in doing any of this if I’m not willing to do what it takes to sell it.”

She hesitated. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do.”

Max bridged the distance between them. “I’m sure. If it’ll make Mitch happy, it’s worth it, right?” She nodded slowly. “But I think…it’ll probably be a little weird. Our first kiss, I mean. Maybe we should – ah – get it out of the way now. So that we seem more comfortable with each other when we’re in front of your family.”

Zoey blinked in surprise and took a half step back? “Really? I don’t know if that’s necessary –” she protested weakly.

“You think we should have our first kiss in front of Emily? That’s like putting chum in the water. There’s no way she wouldn’t pick up on it!”

After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. “I see your point. Okay. If you’re – if you’re sure.”

Moving slowly, as if a sudden movement would scare her away, he reached up and cupped her face in his hands. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.

She did as he asked, then opened one eye and gave him a mildly suspicious look. “Why?”

Max grinned. Did she think he was going to prank her or something? “Because the first fake-kiss in a fake-relationship is very serious business. If you’re staring at me, I’ll get nervous and blow it, and then you’ll think I have terrible fake-kissing skills and fake-breakup with me,” he teased.

Biting back a smile, she closed her eyes again. Taking a moment to steady his breathing, he brushed his thumbs lightly across the high ridge of her cheekbones, down the soft skin of her cheeks, and along the curve of her jaw. He could do this. None of it was real. He just needed to remember that.

Leaning down, he hesitated when his mouth was inches from hers. The feel of her breath against his lips made him shudder with longing. _It’s fake. None of this is real. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s all fake._

“Max?” she breathed, her voice soft and uncertain.

Before he could second-guess himself, he closed the distance between their mouths. _It’s not real_. He felt her lips part on a tiny gasp and moaned, one hand sweeping down her waist to her side as the other caressed the nape of her neck, toying with the soft curl of hair that wrapped around his fingers. _It’s not real._

Her hands hovered above his chest, but when he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in, she fisted her hands in his shirt and clung to him. He felt her murmur something against his mouth and hesitated, but her hands swept up his chest to his shoulders. _It’s not real,_ he reminded himself. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, sweeping her tongue against his lower lip in a silent invitation.

It was enough to shatter his self-control. Crushing her against him, Max lifted her off her feet as his lips parted and he poured all of the love he’d struggled to hide from her for years into his kiss. _Zoey…oh, god. Zoey._ He sucked her lower lip into his mouth, scraping it softly with his teeth. He couldn’t count the number of nights he’d spent thinking about her, fantasizing about her kiss. But even in his dreams had never captured the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath.

She tasted like honey.

Zoey made a soft sound as he turned with her in his arms, and he smiled against her mouth. “God, Zoey, I –” he began. _I love you._ He caught himself before he could say the words that would reveal him. The words she didn’t want to hear. The reminder was like a splash of cold water, pulling Max out of his romantic haze.

 _It’s wasn’t real,_ he reminded himself.

But it felt real.

Embarrassed that he’d allowed himself to get carried away – and ashamed that he’d allowed himself to forget it was all an act, if only for a moment – he rushed to put her back on her feet and step away. His body nearly betrayed him, his hands reaching to hold her again, and so he shoved them into his back pockets and retreated another step.

Should he apologize? She had lifted her hand to her mouth, her fingers pressing against her lips as she stared at him with wide eyes. Unable to meet her eyes, he looked down, absently smoothing the wrinkles in his shirt caused by her hands. As he often did when he wasn’t sure what to say, he resorted to humor. “So, uh, that should do the trick, don’t you think? I can’t imagine even Emily would be suspicious after that.”

“No, I don’t think so,” she agreed softly.

He ran a hand through his hair, which he realized only belatedly had been mussed by her hands. “I should – should we get back to work, or -?”

“No! That’s okay!” she blurted, confirming his worst fears. He had crossed the line – if not with his actions, than with the way they betrayed his emotions, reminding her of feelings she didn’t want to face. “I’m almost done here, anyway. You can head out.”

His stomach sank. While he normally would have insisted he remain to help, he needed some distance from her. Not to mention time to get his head on straight. “Okay. Yeah. Right,” he mumbled. His hands still ached to hold her, and he didn’t trust himself not to give in to the urge, so he shoved them into his pockets as he turned to go.

_It wasn’t real. It wasn’t._

At least…it hadn’t been for her. The problem was, it had been for him. So what was he going to do now?


	5. Chapter 5

_“I can’t stop this feeling, deep inside of me. Boy, you just don’t realize what you do to me,”_ Zoey sang at a volume approximating the top of her lungs as she danced around her kitchen, popping toast onto a plate and giving the scrambled eggs one more flip with her spatula before dumping them on top. _“When you hold me in your arms so tight, you let me know everything’s all right! I-I-I-I-I’m hooked on a feeling! I’m high on believing that you’re in lo-”_

She broke off at the sound of a loud knock on her front door. She did a little boogie with her hips as she flipped off the stove in a smooth gesture. Then she danced her way over to the table to drop off her plate on her way to the door. At a much more reasonable volume, she continued to sing as she moved. _“Your lips are sweet as candy and the taste stays on my mind. Boy, you got me thirsty for another cup of_ – Mo? H-hey! What’s up?”

He threw her a pointed look as he walked past her into her living room. “What’s up with me? I came over here to find out what’s up with you.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied. “I’m just getting ready for work, and -”

“You’re singing,” he finished for her.

She tried one more time to avoid the conversation. “So-o-o?” she asked, drawing out the word. “I…sing. On occasion. Sometimes.”

“Nuh-uh. I’ve lived across the hall from you for a while, and I can tell you one thing. You? Don’t sing. I sing. Other people sing. But you don’t sing.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he pointed one finger at her. “Zoey? Spill.”

“Oh, all right,” she huffed, collapsing into her chair to eat her rapidly cooling breakfast. “I’m in a good mood because, you know, it’s a beautiful day outside, and things are really going well for me at work, and also,” she took a big bite and ducked her head, hoping to obscure the words, “Max and I kissed.” Swallowing quickly, she looked up and threw Mo a wide grin. “So did you want a cup of coffee or something? I don’t have a lot of time, but -”

“But you are going to make time because I heard you, and you are not dropping _that_ bombshell on me and then racing out the door.” Mo’s eyes were bright with excitement as he took a seat on the other side of the table. When Zoey didn’t say anything right away, he prompted, “So? Details!”

She sighed and started pushing her congealing eggs around her plate. “It’s…complicated.” That word again. She was starting to hate that word.

“Uh huh. I’m sure. So who kissed who? Did that man finally give in to the burning passion that’s been building up inside him for years? Or did you decide it was high time to take him for a test ride?”

She rolled her eyes. “Neither.” She paused. “Or both? I don’t know. In answer to your question, he kissed me. But I kind of made him.” At Mo’s confused expression, she explained, “Okay, so you’re probably going to think this is ridiculous, but I kinda…sorta…asked Max to pretend to date me. Just until my dad…just to make my dad happy for these last few weeks.”

She expected a wide range of reactions to her confession, but he just blinked at her a few times, stunned. “You’re pretending to date Max.” She nodded. “And so that’s why you two kissed.” She nodded again. “Because you’re pretending to date each other.” One more nod. “Which is definitely a thing normal people do. And I guess the only way could convince your family you were dating at that moment was to kiss him.”

Zoey couldn’t meet his eyes. “Well, technically nobody else was around. We were…practicing.”

Mo leaned back in his chair. “Right. If you’re going to pretend to date someone, it only makes sense that you have to practice pretending to kiss them. So you can do it convincingly. Out of curiosity, how many practice kisses did it take?”

She winced. Splaying her hands, she tapped her fingertips together and said meekly, “Well, that depends how you want to count them. Do you mean incidents of practice kissing, or number of times our lips may have met during those incidents?” Mo just cupped his chin in one hand and threw her an expectant look. “So…we only had that one incident. Um, so far. And as for the other question,” she began scrunching her face in thought, “I’m honestly not sure.”

“Well, since you’ve been singing “Hooked on a Feeling” all morning, I don’t think there’s any need to ask you how you liked the kiss. Or kisses.”

Zoey felt warmth spread from her chest, up her neck, to her face, and she assumed if she looked at her reflection at that moment, she’d see she’d turned bright red. “In all fairness, Max is…skilled…in the…arts…related to…the lips. And tongue.” She hid her mouth behind her coffee and mumbled in an undertone, “And teeth.”

Mo threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, I _see_. I had such high hopes for him. Good to know he didn’t let me down. So, I take this to mean you finally made your decision.”

“My decision?” she asked with feigned innocence, standing to take her dishes to the sink. She really would be late if she didn’t get moving. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t willing to let it go. “You’ve been torn between Simon and Max for months. I was hoping all this meant that you’ve finally decided to pick a side.”

“There’s no side!” she protested, throwing up her hands. “Simon is…a great guy. And attractive. And _completely_ engaged to someone else. Max is,” she paused, waving one hand helplessly in the air as though trying to summon the words before continuing, “well, he’s Max. I’m not deciding anything because there’s nothing to decide! I am not in a place to get into a real relationship right now. This whole thing with Max is just…it’s all pretend. So that my dad doesn’t worry about me. And when it’s over…”

Mo’s eyes were sympathetic when he finished her sentence for her. “And when it’s over, the kisses stop. And eventually, he may move on to someone who doesn’t just want a _pretend_ relationship. Is that really what you want?”

Zoey sighed as she shrugged into her coat and reached for the door. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I just…I can’t deal with anything real right now.”

Mo paused and put his hand on her shoulder as he walked past her into the hall. “Well, next time you decide to practice kissing with Max, you let me know how it goes. Soap operas have less drama than you do.”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she jogged down the steps, though she found herself singing in an undertone again by the time she hit the street. _“All the good love when we’re all alone. Keep it up, boy. Yeah, you turn me on. I’m hooked on a feeling! I’m high on believing that you’re in love with me…”_

* * *

Was it her imagination, or was Max avoiding her? She’d tried not to read too much into his behavior, but every time she tried to grab a few moments with him alone, he suddenly remembered a very pressing appointment he needed to make. Or phone call. Or conversation. On the other side of the building.

As she stood on the top of the risers and watched him work at his desk, she couldn’t help but wonder. Was she really that bad of a kisser? Sure, she was a little out of practice, but she couldn’t possibly be _that_ bad, could she? Not bad enough to justify him doing everything in his power to avoid having to kiss her again. The very thought was demoralizing.

Giving her head a quick, determined shake, she hopped down the risers and approached his desk. “Max? Do you have a minute?”

“Oh, hey, Zoey!” he greeted her with false cheer. “Ah, you know, I’d love to talk, but I have something I need to deal with first. For, um, for Joan.”

That did it. She followed him to their boss’s office, but before he could walk inside, she darted around him. “Hey, Joan?” she asked brightly, poking her head inside the office door. “I need to grab Max for a few minutes, okay? We’ll be right back.”

Joan made a disgusted face. “I do not need to know what the two of you do on your lunch hour. Just leave me out of it,” she replied, waving the two of them away.

“Great!” she replied, grabbing Max’s arm and propelling him towards the elevators. “Max, I think you and I need to go for a cup of coffee.”

“Well, we have a -” he began, turning towards the coffee bar.

She shook her head. “Outside. Just the two of us.”

The silence that fell between them was strained as they rode the elevator down to the ground floor and headed outside. Now that she had Max alone, she wasn’t sure what to say. They were a few doors down from SPRQ Point’s entrance when she couldn’t take the silence any longer. Stopping next to some concrete stairs, she climbed up the first step so she could look him in the eye. “Okay, look. There’s something I need to – I’m sorry about last night. I know I – it was pretty bad, huh?”

His face fell. “Bad? You’d really describe it as _bad_?”

She barely registered his disappointment too wrapped up in her own self-doubt. It wasn’t every day that a girl found out her kisses were so awkward, her partner would rather avoid her than risk hurting her feelings. “I was just nervous, you know? And, okay, I’m a little out of practice. But I think if we just…oh, to hell with it.” Before she could embarrass herself further, she wrapped her arms around Max’s neck and practically threw herself at him, launching herself into his arms as she pressed her lips against his.

Max let out a soft sound of surprise, his arms wrapping around her instinctively as she landed against his chest. But a moment later, they tightened, holding her steady as she deepened the kiss. She curled her fingers into his hair, which was somehow softer than she’d imagined, and almost wanted to cheer aloud when he started to kiss her back.

Last night, he had taken charge of the kiss, overwhelming her senses as he pulled her deeper and deeper into the embrace. This time, she was determined to set the pace. She brushed feather-soft kisses against his lips until they parted for her, and when she felt him try to take control, she teased him by pulling away slightly. He moaned, but he relented, and so she ran her tongue consolingly along the curve of his lower lip and deepened the kiss once more.

She didn’t know how long they stood there, locked in their embrace, but the soft sound of someone clearing their throat a few feet away finally penetrated Zoey’s mental fog and caught her attention. Reluctantly, she pulled away from Max and looked over his shoulder, almost falling over when she saw her mom, dad, Emily, and Howie staring at her.

“Mom! Dad! Wh-what are you doing here?” she asked, scrambling out of Max’s embrace and trying desperately to get her clothes in order.

Emily had her head tilted to the side, giving them both a considering look. Her mom looked amused, and though it was sometimes hard to read her dad’s expressions, she could swear there was both surprise and happiness in his eyes. For his part, Howie was looking at the sky, like he was searching for passing airplanes. “Emily had an appointment at the doctor today, and David’s hearing is running late, so she asked us to come along. We were just headed to lunch and thought we’d stop by and invite you to join us,” her mom explained. “You too, Max, of course.”

“If we aren’t interrupting anything,” Howie added dryly.

“Interrupting? Us? N-no! Of course not!” Zoey stammered, grabbing Max’s hand as she stepped down next to him. “We were just on our way to lunch, too. We’d be happy to join you.”

“You know, if you wanted some time alone, I could -” Max began, but Zoey squeezed his hand and threw him a threatening look.

“Don’t you dare.” If she had to face her family with the knowledge they’d just seen her make out with her fake-boyfriend in front of the entire world, she wasn’t going to do it alone.

They had walked only about a half a block before her sister-in-law commented, “So, I guess things really are fine between you guys.”

Feeling her cheeks heat, Zoey replied defensively, “Of course they are! We just…needed a little time. To get used to things.”

“Uh huh. Well, you better be careful,” Emily advised. “Last time David kissed me like that, I ended up like this.” She gestured toward her pregnant stomach.

Max let out a tiny, surprised puff of laughter, while Zoey inwardly cringed. “Ew!” she cried, only half-jokingly. She covered her face, though whether it was to avoid looking at Emily’s expression or to prevent Max from seeing her own, she wasn’t entirely sure. “I did _not_ need to know that, thank you!”

“I’m just saying,” Emily remarked with an unrepentant grin.

In a voice slightly louder and a shade higher-pitched than usual, Max tried desperately to change the subject, “So, Mitch, did you see the game last week?”

Mitch shifted in his seat to look up at him, just as Howie said jovially, “So, Max. Mitch said you asked Zoey out using a flash mob. That’s pretty brave!”

Zoey’s stomach twisted into a knot, and she wracked her brain for a way to change the subject. She didn’t want to talk about this. Her family all thought that this story had a happy ending, but of course she knew it didn’t. She didn’t want Max to be hurt by the reminder.

She started to comment on the weather, when Emily interjected, “Especially since Zoey isn’t always good at dealing with big emotional moments.”

Her head whipped around as she turned to stare at her sister-in-law. “What are you talking about! I don’t have a problem with big emotional moments!”

“Which is why you ran away afterwards?” Emily pointed out. Zoey loved her sister-in-law, but at times like this, it was sometimes hard to remember that her bluntness was meant with kindness. After all, she – like everyone else in her family – believed that things had all worked out in the end, and Zoey had ultimately realized she reciprocated Max’s feelings. If she hadn’t, Zoey knew she wouldn’t be so cruel as to make light of such a painful memory.

Zoey wanted to console Max, but he was the one who gave her hand a quick, comforting squeeze. She looked up into his eyes and saw a quick flash of the heartache he tried to hide, but then he released her and shifted away. “Well, you didn’t see me dance. I only had three rehearsals, after all. Running away might have been the right call,” he joked, breaking out into a couple impromptu dance moves on the sidewalk. Redirecting the conversation away from her reaction to his confession. Making a mockery of his own pain to shield her from her own.

“Max, no,” she protested softly, reaching for his arm. Had he always done this, protecting her at the cost of his own feelings? She’d never thought about it before, but she had a suspicion the answer was yes, and it broke her heart. Determined to stop her family from unintentionally causing him further agony, she said loudly, “That’s not what happened. I -”

“Well, at least it all worked out, and you two realized you love each other. That’s all that matters. And it sounds like it was a wonderful gesture, Max. The kind of moment Mitch would have loved,” Maggie cut in, oblivious to her daughter’s inner turmoil. “He’s always been a sucker for those big, romantic moments. Haven’t you, Mitch?”

Her father indicated agreement, and the opportunity to clear the air was lost as the conversation redirected to more mundane logistical matters when they entered the restaurant. But Zoey noticed that Max didn’t reach for her hand again throughout lunch, or on the walk back to the office. She was only now beginning to realize how many small sacrifices Max made on her behalf. How many times she’d probably inadvertently wounded him, without even realizing it – not just now, but in all the years of their friendship leading up to this moment. What that must have cost him – and continued to cost him still, as he covered up his pain with humor and hid it from the world. From her.

She missed the warmth of his hand in hers.

* * *

Max groaned as he looked over at the clock. Curling his arm underneath his head, he glanced over at the clock on his nightstand. It was after two, and he was completely unable to fall asleep. He kept thinking about Zoey and their kiss. Kisses.

“They didn’t mean anything, Max,” he scolded himself, but even in the quiet solitude of his bedroom, his words lacked conviction. She’d kissed him earlier that day, hadn’t she? Of course, their whole pretend relationship was her idea, so that didn’t have to mean anything. But she hadn’t just kissed him. She’d _kissed_ him. Like she meant it. Like she didn’t want to stop.

Maybe things had changed for her. They’d certainly changed for him. Maybe he should ask her. Would that really be so terrible?

Yes, it would. Because she’d already asked him for time, and he’d agreed to give it to her. He’d promised he wouldn’t allow himself to be confused by their fake relationship. She knew how he felt, and she’d already told him she wasn’t ready for more, and it wouldn’t be right to pressure her.

Plus, she’d said their first kiss was bad, earlier. And maybe she hadn’t mean it the way it sounded; he couldn’t be entirely sure. But still, he doubted anyone went from calling a kiss “bad” one minute to declaring their undying love in the next.

Bad. _Bad?_ She’d thought it was _bad?_ He’d thought it was pretty earth-shattering himself, but…no. He wasn’t going to allow himself to dwell on the thought she hadn’t been as moved by their first kiss as he was. Of course she wasn’t. Didn’t that basically sum up their whole relationship? That she barely noticed moments that left him wanting more?

So, no. He shouldn’t say anything. He should absolutely keep his feelings to himself. Keep repeating to himself that none of it meant anything.

But it _felt_ like it had meant something.

Before he could resume his mental merry-go-round, torturing himself with questions that had no clear answers, he heard a sound at his front door. Sitting up, he strained to listen and heard it again. Light tapping, like someone faintly knocking.

Confused, he jumped out of bed and headed to the door. When he looked through the peephole and saw a familiar tumble of red hair, he caught his breath. Could it really be Zoey? Had he somehow conjured her there with his thoughts? Or was his sleep-deprived brain playing tricks on him?

He saw her shoulders slump as she stepped away from the door, her movements unsteady, and fumbled with the lock as he tried to pull it open before she could leave. “Zoey? What are you doing here?”


	6. Chapter 6

“Max?” Zoey asked blearily, turning towards him. Wrapping her in his arms, he helped her into his apartment. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No,” he reassured her. His brief glimpse through the peephole had been accurate; her steps were unsteady, and she was slurring her words slightly. It seemed she had been drinking. Brushing her hair off her face, he stared at her closely, but while she seemed inebriated, she appeared otherwise unharmed. “Is everything okay?”

She nodded, then collapsed against him when it seemed the movement was too much for her. “Uh huh. I went out for a few drinks. I think I drank too much.”

“Well, that’s okay,” he reassured her. “Do you want to sit down?”

Zoey shook her head, pressing her hand against his bare stomach. “You’re not wearing a shirt.” It hadn’t occurred to him to put one on before answering the door, but that seemed self-explanatory, so he just waited, wrapping his arms around her to steady her and trying not to think about the feeling of her breath against his bare skin.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” she mumbled, clearly having forgotten that he’d told her she hadn’t _._ “I just wanted to see you. I missed you.” She shifted forward, rubbing her cheek against his chest, like she was trying to curl up against him. “You always make me feel better. You make everything better,” she breathed. Then she sighed, the sudden burst of warm air causing him to shudder. Closing his eyes, he breathed in slowly. _She’s drunk. She’s drunk and it wouldn’t mean anything even if she weren’t._

“Oh.” She was probably expecting a better response, but it was the only thing he could think of to say.

Tilting her head back, she looked up at him. “I love you, Max, and I think you should kiss me.”

His heart soared at her confession, but it plummeted again when he remembered she was intoxicated. His laugh was shaky. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he replied, choosing to ignore her dubious admission.

“Why not?” she asked with a petulant frown.

Before he could find a gentle way to explain, “ _Because I love you, and you don’t love me. And also you’re drunk. And just standing here like this with you is a bad idea. And did I mention you’re drunk?”_ she wrapped her arms around her neck and tugged, trying to pull him down to her level.

“I like kissing you! And didn’t you hear me? I said I love you. I looooooove you!” She dragged out the last word as though she’d never heard it before and got lost halfway through. Or like she’d never said the word before and was getting used to the taste of it in her mouth. Tilting her head to the side, she stared up at him with narrowed eyes. “You don’t believe me. Why don’t you believe me?”

He tried to grin and failed miserably, but he hoped she was too drunk to notice. “Sweetheart, you’re drunk.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not telling the truth,” she pointed out, thrusting her chin forward belligerently.

He stroked his hand down her back, trying to disentangle himself from the vice-like grip she had around his neck. “I believe you! I just think Sober Zoey may have a thing or two to say about it. I think she’d probably disagree with you.”

“Pbbt,” she responded enthusiastically enough that he had to wipe some spittle out of his eye. “Who cares what Sober Zoey would say? Sober Zoey is no fun. She doesn’t even know what she wants, but I do. I like Drunk Zoey much better. Don’t you?”

This time, he didn’t have to fake a grin. She was just so darn earnest and adorable. Of course, she was completely hammered, so he wasn’t foolish enough to take a single word she said seriously. But, still, she was so charmingly well-intentioned, it was a shame she’d be so mortified about all this in the morning. “I don’t know,” he argued, keeping his tone light and playful. “I’m kind of fond of her.”

Then, before she could resume an argument about her differing personality traits according to various states of inebriation, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against her forehead. When she looked like she wanted to bring him in for a proper kiss, he straightened and said quickly, “Come on, Zoey. It’s late. Let me put on some clothes, and I’ll walk you home.”

He started to walk away, but she reached out and grabbed him, her hands brushing tantalizingly against his chest as she fumbled clumsily for his arm. “No, wait. Can’t I stay?”

“Zoey, sweetheart…I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he pointed out gently, but her eyes were wide and sad, and he let out a small groan of defeat. He already knew he couldn’t resist her, so why was he even bothering to try? If he wasn’t going to sleep anyway, he could lie awake as easily on the couch as in the bed. “All right, come on.”

Wrapping his arm gently around her waist, he guided her into the bedroom and then rummaged around in his closet until he found an oversized t-shirt and light sweatpants with a drawstring. As she swayed back and forth in the middle of the room, he handed them over. “Okay, I’m going to go into the other room and get you some water. Do you think you can get changed by yourself?” If she couldn’t she was going to have to sleep in the dress she was wearing. That was one line he was absolutely not willing to cross.

To his relief, she nodded, so he backed quickly out of the room and shut the door. He’d spent the better part of the last three hours thinking about Zoey’s kiss, and now she’d showed up on his doorstep and asked him to do it again. While professing feelings he’d always wanted to hear but didn’t dare fool himself into believing were true. It was a special level of hell even Dante had never imagined.

Forcing his mind onto the task at hand, he hurried into the kitchen to grab her a glass of water. Then he lingered, grabbing Aspirin from the medicine cabinet to have on hand when she awoke the next morning. He meandered about the apartment, tidying the place, and was just about to knock on the door to check on her when she called out to him.

“Max?”

“Yeah? Zoey?” he asked, moving to stand outside his bedroom door. He didn’t dare open it yet, afraid that if he did, he would find her undressed and it would give him a heart attack on the spot. Resting his hand on the handle, he asked, “Are you dressed?”

“Uh huh,” she replied, though the sound was muffled.

He still hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Uh huh.”

“ _Absolutely_ sure?” he asked one more time.

He almost laughed when he heard her sigh loudly and call out, “Yes!”

Very slowly, he turned the handle and cracked open the door, ready to slam it closed if necessary. But when he saw her standing next to the window, he was relieved to see she was wearing the clothes he’d found for her. The pants were absolutely enormous on her, extra fabric pulling around her feet, and she was positively swimming in his oversized shirt.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he stepped into the bedroom and had to bite back a laugh when she lifted her hands helplessly and pointed out the obvious. “They’re a little big.”

Shaking his head, Max grabbed her hand and led her to the bed, tucking her under the covers and putting the glass of water and bottle of Aspirin on the nightstand. “Do you need anything else? Do you feel sick to your stomach or anything?” She shook her head, stroking his hand with her own. “Okay, if you need anything, I’ll be right out in the living room on the couch. You can -”

“No, stay here with me.”

“Zoey,” he groaned, trying to pull away. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” she protested. “I won’t try anything, I promise! We’ll just be sleeping.” He tilted his head back and heaved a heavy sigh, wondering what he had done in this life to deserve being tortured like this. Whatever karmic sin he’d committed, he was deeply, _deeply_ sorry. “Please?” she whispered.

He sighed again, capitulating. As she no doubt knew he would. “All right. Give me a minute.” He tucked her under the covers and then walked to the living room, grabbing extra pillows off the couch. When he returned to the bedroom, he stretched out on top of the covers, as far away from her as he could get without falling on the floor. Then he set up the two couch pillows between them – hopefully a more effective psychological barrier than they were a physical one.

Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on his breathing to forget the presence of the woman in the bed next to him. But every time she moved, his breath caught and all he could focus on was her. He felt the mattress shift as she scooted closer and had to stifle a groan when she reached out and rested her hand on top of his chest. “Max?” she asked in a voice just above a whisper. “Can I ask you a question?”

Placing his hand on top of hers to quell the idle patterns her fingers traced against his skin, he linked their fingers together. “Yeah?” he asked, glancing over at her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you loved me?”

“You know how I feel. But I don’t think it’s something we should talk about when you’re drunk.”

She shifted against her pillow, a thwarted shake of her head. “Not tonight. Before.”

Oh. He heaved a heavy sigh and looked back up at the ceiling. “Because I knew you didn’t feel the same way about me, and I didn’t want to make you feel like I was pushing you into anything. I was afraid, when you found out, it would ruin…things. Everything.”

She repositioned her head on the pillow. “What changed your mind?” Staring at the lights reflected on the ceiling from cars passing by on the street below, he debated how to answer the question. Or even whether to answer the question.

“I don’t think we should talk about this right now,” he offered reluctantly. “We’re dealing with enough as it is, and I don’t know that -”

“I need to know,” she interjected. “Please?” Then, when the silence between them had stretched out a little too long, Zoey prompted, “Max?”

“I told you how I felt because it was killing me not to,” he finally admitted, his voice heavy with regret and tinged with defeat. “I kept telling myself I could go to work every day and hang out with you at night, and eventually I’d get over my feelings for you and we could go back to the way things were. But that didn’t happen. I just kept falling more and more in love with you, and every time you called me in the middle of the night, just to talk, or when you told me you missed me, or…” he broke off with a quick shake of his head. The numerous moments he’d convinced himself to misunderstand didn’t matter. “I kept wanting to believe it meant something more. Until, eventually, I let myself believe that maybe you were even starting to feel the same way about me.”

Uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, Max did what he often did. He resorted to humor. “I guess I could have just come to you and told you how I felt, instead of hiring a whole flash mob and making a big scene out of it. But then what would –”

“Don’t do that,” she cut in, shaking her head. “Why do you keep joking about it like that?”

His smile fell, and he sucked in a deep breath. Zoey was just drunk enough to bravely demand the truth of him, but he wondered if she was still just sober enough to not really want to hear it. Still, even though he knew it was probably a bad idea, there were only so many times he could lie to her. And laying here at night, with her in his bed, her hand warm against his chest and her misguided professions of love still ringing in his ears, he was finding it hard to find the half-truths that he knew she wanted to hear. “Because remembering what actually happened that day still hurts, and I keep telling myself if I can get to the point where I can laugh about it, it won’t anymore.” If he really could laugh about it, maybe it wouldn’t feel like his heart was breaking all over again, every time he looked at her.

She curled her hand into a fist against his chest, trapping his fingers in hers. “I really do love you, you know.” The tightness in his throat prevented him from responding, and he couldn't look over at her for fear his emotions would show on his face, so he just responded with a slow shake of his head. “Why don’t you believe me?”

 _Because, in the morning, when you wake up, if you remember this, you’ll hate yourself for saying it. And you may even hate me for hearing it. And I’d rather you not say anything at all than say something you’re going to regret and want to take back._ He had a feeling that would only lead to an argument, so instead, he offered, “If you still mean it in the morning, I’ll believe it then.”

He heard her huff, a quick, frustrated exhalation of air. “I just don’t want to keep hurting you, and it’s killing me that I know I do.”

Summoning the courage to look over at her, he replied reassuringly, “I’m not trying to push you into anything. And I don’t want you to be with me because you feel guilty. I want…” His voice trailed off when he realized what he’d been about to say. Wasn’t it obvious? _I want you to love me. I want to know, when you say you love me, that you really mean it._

Zoey shifted closer, until her mouth was only a few inches from his. “What?”

He lifted a hand and brushed her hair off her face. “I want…to get some sleep. We can talk about this more tomorrow. Okay?”

She looked disappointed, but she moved back on her pillow, putting some distance between her mouth and his. “Okay,” she mumbled, shifting into a more comfortable position.

Max lay on his back, staring up at the patterns of light moving across his ceiling, long after he heard Zoey’s breath deepen and knew she’d fallen asleep.

* * *

Zoey stifled a moan when her pillow shifted under her cheek in the morning. Pillows didn’t normally move like that, did they? She also didn’t remember her pillow being this warm. And she was pretty sure it didn’t usually smell like Max. Still caught in that hazy world between sleep and consciousness, her mind wasn’t able to put those pieces together. Instead, she made a soft sound of protest when it moved again and scooted forward, chasing the warmth that was starting to elude her.

Throwing one hand out to hold her pillow in place, she inched forward until she found a spot that cradled her cheek perfectly and let out a happy sigh. A slight pounding behind her eyes warned her that, when she finally dragged herself back to the world of consciousness, she would regret it pretty much immediately. So for the moment, she was content to stay just where she was.

As she dozed, only half-asleep, she heard the soft strains of piano music in her mind and she tried to block it out with a frown. “No,” she mumbled grumpily, nuzzling her pillow in a silent prayer that consciousness would elude her just a few minutes more.

Then she heard the singing. Though the voice was soft and low – and only in her mind, she was pretty sure – she’d recognize it anywhere. Max.

_“It’s time for me to be on my way, I know. I got business to conduct, and I’ve got places to go. But I can’t help looking at her sleeping instead. Another morning I’ll have trouble climbing out of this bed.”_

Wait. Max? What was Max doing in her bed? She stifled a moan as the memories of the night before came flooding back. Things got a little fuzzy after her fifth shot, but her memory of standing in Max’s living room, begging him to kiss her and professing her love for him, were all too clear.

Unaware that she was awake, she felt Max try to scoot out from under her. Her cheek was still pillowed on the crook of his shoulder, and her arm was splayed across his chest. Moving slowly, his touch light and gentle, as though trying to be careful not to wake her, he lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across the back of her fingers. He continued to sing in her mind, _“Because she’s such a temptation. It’s driving me crazy. And it’s my fascination that’s making me act this way.”_

Slowly, careful not to jostle her too much, he slid out from under her. She let him gently reposition her head on the pillow, keeping her eyes shut tight so he didn’t know she was awake. And listing to his heart song.

_“I know what all of my friends say. They’re afraid that I’m losing my touch. She’s such a temptation.”_

As she heard him move around the room, gathering his clothes together, she cracked her eyes open just wide enough to watch him. As she remembered everything she’d said to him the day before, she was too mortified to confess she was awake and risk the conversation that would inevitably ensue. But part of her longed to reach out to him and pull him back into bed. He looked weary, his shoulders stooped in exhaustion, and she watched as he rubbed one tired hand down his face.

Her hand ached to reach out to him. To tell him that she wasn’t sure that her words the night before had been a lie. Unfortunately, the alcohol that had made her so bold was out of her system, leaving the old, familiar fear behind.

 _“Oh, I look so tired, ‘cause I don’t get much sleep. I got too many commitments that are too hard to keep. And I try to be rational. And I try to be wise. But it all gets blown to pieces when I look in her eyes.”_ His clothes slung over one arm, he hesitated at the bedroom doorway and looked over at his shoulder to her sleeping on the bed. _“Because she’s such a temptation. And nothing can save me. But I might find salvation, if I can tear myself away. ‘Cause I know what all of my friends say. There’s a danger in wanting too much. She’s such a temptation._ ”

He crept out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him, and she heard him move around in the adjoining bathroom. She tried to sit up, but as soon as she lifted her head, hammers started ricocheting inside her skull, making her collapse back on her pillow with a groan of agony. Reaching blindly for the Aspirin and glass of water by her nightstand, she gulped down a few pills and remained as still as she could while she prayed for her hangover to pass quickly.

A short while later, Max returned to the bedroom, freshly showered and dressed. He approached slowly, a fresh glass of water in his hand, but when he saw she was awake, he knelt down by the bed with a look of concern. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

She groaned. “I can’t believe I just showed up on your doorstep like that last night. I kind of want to kiss you, but I also kind of want to throw up. So I guess the jury’s still out. Ask me again later?”

He chuckled. “Okay, well, if I get a vote, I’m voting for the kiss.” He cupped her cheek, stroking her skin gently with his thumb.

Realizing he was wearing a button-up shirt and a jacket, she frowned. “You look dressed up.” There was an unspoken question in her statement. He always looked nice at work, but it wasn’t the type of job that required him to dress up.

“Yeah. I have something I have to take care of before work. It’s not a big deal. I’ve been meaning to tell you about it, but things just keep getting in the way. I need to head out now, but we can talk about it later, when you’re feeling better. For now, you should try to get a little more rest, if you can. Can I get you anything?”

“No,” she whispered, wishing she was brave enough to ask him to stay.

He hesitated, staring into her eyes as if he was debating whether or not to say something, and she heard the heart song pick up where it had left off.

 _“Oh, I should be leaving, but I can’t cut it loose. I have my reasons for resistance, but I have no excuse.”_ Apparently deciding not to say whatever was on his mind, he got to his feet leaning over the bed to press a soft kiss against her forehead. _“And I lose my composure. And I could use some restraint. I never claimed to be a hero, and I never said I was a saint. She’s such a temptation, and it’s driving me crazy. And it’s my fascination that’s making me act this way.”_

“Max,” she blurted, stopping him just as he reached the door. But when he turned to look at her, she lost her nerve in the face of his hopeful expression. “I…can we talk? Later? At work? When the world has stopped spinning.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile and nodded. _“And I can just hear all my friends say, ‘better watch out, you’re losing your touch.’ She’s such a temptation.”_ Then, with one more glance at the bed to make sure she was okay, he headed out the door.

* * *

Max was humming to himself when he walked through the SPRQ Point front doors. When he stepped onto the elevator, however, he hit the button for the sixth floor instead of heading straight to his office. He’d been meaning to tell Zoey about the promotion he’d been offered the morning before, but between her kiss and their impromptu lunch date with her parents, it had never seemed the right time. Well, and to be fair, it had been the last thing on his mind during their kiss.

When the elevator doors opened on the sixth floor, he stiffened, feelingly slightly on edge by the aggressively modern atmosphere. Warmed by the memory of Zoey’s smile that morning, he steeled his shoulders and stepped forward.

Although it was early, he wasn’t surprised to find Ava at her desk already. “So, I take it you’ve made your decision?” she remarked, not looking up.

“Yes,” he replied gravely. “And I really want to thank you. It’s an incredible opportunity, but -” But he couldn’t leave Zoey. Almost certainly not the best thing to say, however, so he finished instead with, “I just don’t think it’s the right time to leave my team. We’re right in the middle of a big project, and -”

“And your _team_ will carry on just fine,” she finished for him, looking up at him for the first time. “If they’re any good at their jobs. The point is, you are capable of much more than you’re doing right now. I’d hate to see you sell yourself short.”

“Still. I really am grateful for the offer. I just don’t think now is the right time.”

She shrugged, turning her attention back to her work. “Well, I told you that you had until five today to make a decision, and so you have until then to change your mind.”

Smiling to himself, he turned back to the elevator. He was confident nothing could happen that would change his mind. He certainly never would have guessed that, less than four hours later, he would do just that.


	7. Chapter 7

“Here,” Mo said, putting a drink and a plate covered with eggs, bacon, and toast on the table in front of Zoey. “This will help.”

Her stomach rolled over at the sight, and she tried not to let her disgust show. “I appreciate it, Mo, but I can’t even _think_ of food right now without wanting to hurl.”

“Oh, trust me, I know. But I’ve seen you drink, and I can safely say I’ve had more experience with drinking than you do. Start with this,” he said, pushing a drink into her hand.

Bracing herself, she took a sip and then spluttered when it hit the back of her throat, covering her mouth as she coughed. “What _is_ this?” she demanded, giving it a dubious look.

Mo took a seat across from her at the table. “It’s a Bloody Mary. It’ll help you get over your hangover.” When Zoey stared at him in shock, he rolled his eyes. “A little alcohol in your system will help, and that thing’s practically a virgin!”

“Practically a virgin?” she asked, giving it a cautious sniff. “How can a drink be practically a virgin?”

He waved his hand dismissively in the air. “The vodka and tomato juice fooled around a little in the back seat of the car, but their clothes mostly stayed on. They barely made it to second base!”

“I…am not sure what you said were actually words,” Zoey replied, but when Mo just gave her a hard look, she dutifully downed her drink. Then she looked at her breakfast plate in trepidation. “You know, I appreciate it, but you really didn’t have to go to all this trouble for me,” she protested weakly, stalling for time.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about _that_. I did it for me,” Mo replied cheerfully. At her confused expression, he explained, “I know a Walk of Shame when I see one. You didn’t come home last night, and I want all the juicy details! I didn’t want to try to get them with your head in the toilet, so you get my patented cure for a hangover. So, with that out of the way…did you and Max finally decide to stop pretending that your relationship isn’t real?”

Throwing food at her roiling stomach seemed less painful than continuing with this conversation, so Zoey shoved a bite of greasy eggs into her mouth and shook her head. “It isn’t real!” she protested as she chewed. “And it isn’t what you think. Nothing happened with Max last night! He was a perfect gentleman!”

“But you do admit you were with Max,” he pointed out.

Realizing she’d fallen into Mo’s trap, Zoey mumbled, “Okay, fine. Yes. I was with Max. I went out for a few drinks and then went to his place to _completely_ humiliate myself in front of him. But I swear, nothing happened. He turned down all of my advances and even offered to sleep on the couch!”

“And that’s all that happened? You showed up drunk as hell, and the two of you completely behaved yourselves?” he sounded both skeptical and slightly disappointed that her story wasn’t more interesting.

“Well…not exactly. I slept in his bed, and he slept over the covers. But basically, yes.” She took another big bite and mumbled, “If you ignore the part where I told him I loved him and he didn’t believe me.”

“That’s more like it! Go on.”

Zoey ran her fingers through her hair in exasperation, taking a moment to glance at the clock. She really should get going; she was going to be late enough as it was. But she was so mixed up and confused by her own behavior, getting an outsider’s perspective might help. At the very least, it would help to get everything off her chest. “Okay,” she finally began, struggling to find where to start. “So I guess it all started yesterday when my parents caught the two of us kissing outside of work.”

“Hooooold up,” he interjected, jumping to his feet. “I’m pretty sure _I’m_ gonna need a Bloody Mary for this!” He raced into the kitchen to make himself a drink. When he returned a few minutes later, he returned to his seat across from her, looking very pleased with himself. After checking to make sure he was all set, he took a deep sip of his drink and then waved for her to continue. “Okay, _now_ I’m ready.” When she didn’t continue immediately, he gestured for her to carry on. “If you lost track of where you were in your story, you were making out in front of your parents. You two decided you needed more practice?”

She wasn’t fooled by Mo’s innocent tone for a second, so between gritted teeth, she admitted, “Something like that. He was avoiding me, so I thought maybe he didn’t think our first kiss was that great, and I wanted to prove him wrong.”

Mo positively cackled at this admission. “Oh, I _bet_! So what happened? Your parents caught you? At least they have no reason to doubt your story now!”

“No, that’s true,” she admitted. “But it’s still complicated. The thing is, I realized yesterday just how many times Max throws himself under a bus to protect me, and it made me feel…I don’t know. Sad? Guilty?”

“You’re just now realizing that?”

The amount of disbelief and astonishment in his question made her wince. “Maybe? I guess I never really thought about it before. But it made me realize how many times I’ve probably hurt him without even noticing and I…well, I had a few drinks.”

Mo leaned forward, his expression eager, as if he sensed that she was about to get to the best part of her story. “And I take it that’s when you decided to go to his place? For a little late-night chat?”

She moaned. “I guess. Mo, you don’t understand. It was completely…completely humiliating! I practically threw myself at him!” Remembering how she’d clamped her arms around his neck and refused to let go, she amended her previous statement. “No, I _definitely_ threw myself at him. I couldn’t have been more obvious if I’d done the Dance of the Seven Veils, right in his living room!”

“And?” he pressed.

“And?” she parroted. “And he turned me down! I tried to kiss him, and he wouldn’t do it. He tucked me into bed and then put, like, twenty pillows,” more like two pillows, which had both somehow gone AWOL overnight “between us and went to sleep!” After one or two confessions that weren’t hers to share, even with one of her best friends, and the memory of which still left her feeling rather raw.

Mo snorted. “Of course he turned you down! You were drunk, and he’s a good person. If he’d tried anything, I would have called the police on him myself! But you said you told him you loved him and he didn’t believe you.” She nodded, staring morosely at her nearly empty plate. “Does that mean you’ve finally got your head on straight? You know what you want, and you’re going for it?”

“Yes?” Zoey offered, her voice tinged with doubt. “No. Oh, I don’t know!”

He shook his head. “Well, you need to figure it out. I know you said you don’t want to hurt him, but how many times do you think you can tell that man that you love him and then take it back? He adores you, and if you keep doing that, it’ll kill him.”

“I know,” she replied, poking dejectedly at her half-congealed eggs. “It’s just…okay, I know how this is going to sound, but bear with me. This would all be so much easier if it were Simon, you know? Because Simon is…he’s uncomplicated.”

“He’s engaged to another woman,” Mo pointed out flatly.

“Yes, yes. I know,” Zoey replied, waving away that tiny little inconvenient fact. “But he’s uncomplicated for _me_. I mean…if he and I were to try a relationship and it didn’t work out? It would suck to lose him from my life, but I could deal with it. He’d be just another on the long list of my failed relationships. When the dust settled, he’d be just another coworker sitting across from me in the conference room. It would hurt, and I’d probably eat my feelings for a little while, but then I’d deal with it and move on. But Max? Max isn’t a quick fling guy. Max isn’t a guy you just _get over_. At least, not for me. Max is…he’s a _forever_ kind of guy. And I’m not sure I’m ready for _forever_. Does that make any sense?”

Mo nodded, but then he stopped and said, “No. Not really. I think you’re making this more complicated than it has to be.”

She gave an emphatic shake of her head, which she immediately regretted when it woke up the tiny men with hammers pounding away inside her brain. “No, I’m acknowledging how complicated it _is_.” Leaning forward, she explained earnestly, “If I say yes to Max, I’m not just saying yes to one date. I’m not even saying yes to a casual fling that I expect to play out in a few months. I’m saying yes to _forever_. Or at least, I’m saying yes to _trying_ for forever. And I’m risking everything – _everything_ – I have with him to do it. What if it doesn’t work out, and I lose him completely? I can’t…I’m already losing my dad. I think it’s pretty clear I lost my mind a while ago. I just _can’t_ lose Max too. I don’t know how I would be able to survive that.”

Reaching forward to take her hand, her friend said, “I know it’s hard, and you want to run away from this. But you just can’t anymore. You have to figure out what you want and then go for it. I think you’re a lot stronger and a lot braver than you think you are, but you aren’t being very fair to him right now, and you know it. You chose to be in a pretend-relationship for your dad, but now you have own it for real. One way or another. You can’t just stick your head in the sand until it all goes away. Hurt people hurt people, and even if you don’t want to admit that’s what you’re doing right now? I guarantee you are hurting him. A _lot_. And selling yourself short in the process.”

As much as she hated to admit it, she knew Mo was right. Still, she was hardly going to figure out her disaster of a love life – or fake-love-life – in the next ten minutes, so she held up her plate and gave him a piteous look. “I know. You’re right. But in the meantime, can I have more bacon? It was really good.”

He shook his head, taking her plate for her. “No. Bacon is for people who have their act together. But there’s plenty more eggs, and eggs are for people who are a hot mess.”

Resting her head between her arms, splayed out on the table, Zoey moaned, “Is this what death feels like? Because I’m pretty sure this is what death feels like.”

Mo snorted, seemingly unconcerned by her dramatic display as he headed towards the kitchen. “No. You aren’t that lucky, and death wouldn’t hurt this much.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, her words muffled by the table and protective barrier of her arms. “Load me up with all the eggs you got, then, I guess, because I don’t know that I’ll be able to stop being a mess any time soon.”

* * *

Max was in a good mood as he tackled his To Do list for the day. He knew it was unlikely anything with Zoey had actually changed. Odds were good that, even if she remembered her confession the night before, she’d want to backtrack on it today. But she had told him she loved him. And she’d sung a heart song to him about loving him. Surely that meant that she was beginning to realize her feelings for him on some level, right? Even if she wasn’t ready to face those feelings now, he couldn’t entirely squelch the hope that one day, when she’d had a little more time…

Should he even ask her about her confession to him the night before? Part of him thought the answer was no. She’d bring it up when she was ready, and their fake-relationship complicated things. If she wasn’t ready to discuss her feelings, then she might respond to the topic by panicking and pushing him away, as he’d seen her do several times before. On the other hand, weren’t they just ignoring the elephant in the room if he didn’t ask her about it?

Probably no more than the fact they’d tacitly decided not to talk about his feelings for her at all. That was a pretty large elephant that they’d both apparently chosen to ignore.

He still hadn’t come to a conclusion by the time he saw her stagger in, large sunglasses covering her face to shield her from the merciless light of the sun. He tried not to laugh when she made her way slowly to her desk and tried to take off her sunglasses. Blinking a couple of times towards the windows, she groaned deep in her chest and slid them back on, pressing one hand against her forehead as she waged an internal debate whether it was a good idea to try sitting down or not.

“Hey, Zoey,” he greeted her in a soft voice as he approached. Outside of her hangover, she looked like she had survived the morning without incident. “I’m sorry I had to leave so early this morning.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tobin’s head whip around, but he was too concerned with Zoey to worry about that.

“Sweetheart,” she mumbled on a sigh.

Max frowned. “What?”

With what looked like a monumental amount of effort, she raised her head to look up at him. “You called me sweetheart last night. I was just wondering why you didn’t today.”

He would gladly pay a thousand dollars to anyone who could clarify what _that_ might mean for him and his future romantic aspirations. “Ah…do you want me to?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her head sinking again. “I was just wondering. Not even sure why I brought it up.” Rubbing the bridge of her nose just above her sunglasses, she said, “I have a meeting in a couple of minutes, but I don’t know how I’m going to get through the day. Everything hurts. My _teeth_ hurt. How does a hangover make your teeth hurt? That shouldn’t be possible!”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I think I have some ibuprofen in my desk. I can grab some for you if you want.”

“Maybe after my meeting,” she agreed. “And Max? Thank you. I know I’m not at my best today, but I don’t mean to take it out on you. I really do appreciate…everything.”

Taking full advantage of their fake-relationship, Max rested his hand on her lower back and bent down for a quick kiss. It was only the knowledge that she was still fully in the midst of a raging hangover that helped him keep the embrace short and simple. “Any time. You know that…sweetheart.” She rested her head on his shoulder for a quick second before grabbing her tablet and heading to her first meeting of the day, sunglasses still firmly in place.

He couldn’t know that his simple offer – to get her something for her hangover headache – would completely destroy his life and the remains of his heart a mere forty-five minutes later.

After Zoey left for her meeting, Max got wrapped up in a conversation with Tobin, as the two tried to troubleshoot some particularly tricky code for Chirp. Their conversation dragged on longer than he’d expected, so when they finished, he felt a stab of remorse that he’d allowed himself to be distracted and had not gotten Zoey the pain medicine she needed sooner. Hurrying to his desk, he dug around in its depths for a couple of minutes, finally pulling out a half-empty bottle of ibuprofen that was luckily still well before its expiration date.

Pleased with his success, he decided he would track down Zoey and discreetly slip it to her, so she didn’t have to wait until after her meeting to take something for her pain. Glancing around quickly, Max saw she wasn’t working at any of the desks or chairs in the main area. All the isolation pods appeared to be empty, so she wasn’t there, either. He doubted she was working in the meditation room, and Joan’s office appeared empty. Confused, he walked around, searching for her, which was when it occurred to him that she might have been meeting with Simon.

Unperturbed, he tossed the pill bottle into the air and caught it in a smooth, practiced motion as he strolled in that direction. As he approached, he heard voices and grinned like a giddy schoolboy when he recognized hers. For a moment, he hesitated, debating what to do. He didn’t want to interrupt their meeting, but their voices were clear enough to indicate one of his office doors were open. Perhaps that meant they wouldn’t mind Max poking his head in for a moment, just to give Zoey something for her headache.

As he waged his internal debate, he heard Simon say his name. “- about you and Max. I hope the two of you work things out. You deserve to be happy.”

Max didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help but overhear as he approached the open door. If he was perfectly honest with himself, while he would never have gone out of his way to listen on their conversation, part of him was dying to know what she would say in response. She deserved to be happy? Did that mean she’d told Simon she wasn’t happy? With him, or with their charade?

Part of him did die inside when she replied. “It’s not like that. I don’t…The truth is, we’re not _actually_ dating. It’s…I’m beginning to really detest this word, but it’s complicated.”

He stumbled to a halt, his hand tightening around the pill bottle, and he barely heard whatever Simon said in response. It was silly to be so surprised by her admission, particularly when it was the truth. It had been foolish of him to read too much into the fact that she’d sold Simon, of all people, on their romantic fiction in the first place. But he had, and so hearing her finally tell her former crush the truth hurt. A lot. More than it should, really.

The two had gone silent, so Max pushed that pain aside and took another step toward the open door. It didn’t matter that Zoey told Simon the truth about their relationship now. It hadn’t mattered that she told him a lie before. It didn’t really change anything between them. How many times was he going to tell himself that before he started to believe it?

But then he rounded the corner and saw Zoey and Simon through the open office door. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, her body pressed against his, as he stooped slightly to kiss her. Max hesitated, knowing their embrace was none of his business – their romantic relationship was nothing but a farce, after all – but needing to see if she returned the kiss or if she pushed him away.

For three long seconds, Zoey didn’t move. Didn’t push Simon away. And those three seconds were all it took to obliterate the remains of his heart.

* * *

When Zoey went into her meeting with Simon, she didn’t imagine that he’d be kissing her a short time later. She plastered a tight smile on her face, trying to ignore the pounding in her skull, as she tried to focus on her job. But over the course of their meeting, she couldn’t help but notice that Simon was looking haggard, his features drawn. When he sagged back in his chair, every line in his body spoke of sadness and defeat.

So, when they wrapped up their meeting, she hesitated before standing. “Simon, I don’t mean to pry, but is everything okay? You’re, uh, well, you’re looking a little rough today.”

The edges of his mouth lifted into what could only charitably be called a smile. “I could ask you the same question. You’re looking a little rough yourself. Is everything okay?”

“What, this?” she scoffed, fiddling with the edge of her sunglasses. “These aren’t because of…I mean, they aren’t _necessary_. I-I could take them off at any time, it’s not -” Eager to prove her point, she started to pull them off, but the bright light in his office made her slide them quickly back into place. “It’s just…does the sun unnaturally bright to you today, too? Because I swear, it’s a _lot_ brighter than yesterday, and it’s got me really worrying about this whole global warming thing…”

He laughed, a little tension ebbing from his face, and she found herself smiling in response. “Sounds like you had quite a party last night.”

“Not really. Well, more of a pity party. For myself.” As Simon’s friend, she could tell that there was something bothering him, but he wasn’t ready to discuss it yet. But over the last few months, she’d realized that opening up about her problems often made him feel comfortable enough to share his own. Leaning forward as though she was about to divulge some classified state secrets, she held one hand up to the side of her mouth and said, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this about me? But I’m kind of a walking disaster in the romance department.”

He straightened in his chair. “Oh, did something happen with you and Max? I’m sorry to hear that. I thought – well, I’ve heard around the office that the two of you seemed pretty solid.”

Flustered – though not entirely surprised – by the revelation that she and Max had been the subject of office gossip, she stammered, “What? Oh, we are! I-I mean, I think we are. It’s…” she bit her tongue before she could say “complicated.” If she used that word one more time to describe either her life or her situation with Max, she was going to have to throw herself out the nearest window. “It’s…a little hard to explain,” she finished lamely.

His eyes were sympathetic as he stood and moved around his desk, leaning against the edge as he said softly, “Well, you know, I know things between the two of us have been weird, but I’m here for you if you need anything. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes? I don’t know. Not really,” she admitted. “I just need to sort some things out. Max is wonderful, but I just keep thinking I’m going to screw it up somehow, and I’ll lose him.”

Simon shook his head. “I don’t see any evidence of that. From what I hear, you seem to be pretty good at this whole dating thing. It sounds like you and Max are crazy about each other.”

She winced. “You don’t know the whole story.” Desperate to change the subject before she told him about her whole ridiculous fake dating plot and how it was completely screwing with her head and her heart, she blurted, “But what about you? I don’t want to pry, but you seem kinda down. Is everything okay?”

He hesitated, then gave his head a slow shake. “Not really, but I hope I get there.” When she hesitated, not sure of what to say, he explained, “Jessica and I ended our engagement last night.”

“Oh, god, Simon, I’m so sorry to hear that.” Without thinking, she jumped to her feet and wrapped her arms around him in a comforting hug. “Are you okay? I mean, really okay?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It was probably the right thing for both of us right now. I wasn’t being very fair to her. But it’s still…”

“Complicated?” she offered with a shaky smile when his voice trailed off.

His arms tightened around her, just as she loosened her hold on him. Zoey had never been very clear on proper hugging protocol. How long were totally platonic hugs supposed to last? It was strange that she’d never asked herself that question with Max, but now she was wondering if she was supposed to extend the embrace a little longer, or if – as the initiating party – the onus was on her to step away. But if he was hurting and in need of comfort, she didn’t want to break off the hug too soon.

Her touch soft and uncertain, she rubbed her hands along his shoulders, trying to offer whatever solace she could. “I really am sorry to hear about you and Jessica,” she offered gently.

“Yeah, me too. And I’m sorry to hear about you and Max. I hope the two of you work things out. You deserve to be happy.”

Sucking a breath between her teeth, Zoey pulled away a little. She hadn’t meant to tell Simon the truth about her relationship with Max, but she realized her hedging had left him with a mistaken impression. Max had been nothing less than wonderful throughout their entire fake-relationship, and she couldn’t stand the idea that someone would think he was anything less. Or that her fear and uncertainty were his fault.

“It’s not like that,” she blurted, desperate to clear the air. “I don’t…The truth is, we’re not _actually_ dating. It’s…I really am beginning to detest this word, but it’s complicated.”

Simon looked surprised. “You’re not? Sounds like there’s quite the story there.”

She nodded and shifted, ready to drop her arms and move away. “There is. But -”

Her explanation broke off when he bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. Seconds passed like heartbeats as she processed what was happening.

 _1…2…_ Surprise. Zoey was surprised, unsure how to process what was happening. She’d intended to give Simon comfort. She hadn’t expected him to initiate a kiss.

 _3…4…_ Curiosity. Just that morning, she’d told Mo how much easier things would be if she was with – or pretending to be with – Simon. She knew kissing him wasn’t right, under the circumstances, but she also remembered her body’s reaction to their last kiss. Would things really be easier with him? Had part of her been holding back with Max because she still secretly wanted Simon?

 _5…_ Disappointment. Inexplicable disappointment. Zoey had kissed Simon before. Or he’d kissed her before, to be more accurate. She knew he was technically skilled. The last time they kissed, butterflies had taken flight in her stomach. Part of her had wondered if they would do the same if she had a second chance at a kiss with him, but as the seconds passed, the butterflies remained firmly perched.

There was nothing overtly wrong with Simon’s kiss. It just didn’t feel…right. It didn’t make her heart race, like it did when she was in Max’s arms. It didn’t make her forget about the rest of the world as she threw herself into his kiss, every part of her aching for it to go on and on. And wasn’t that weird? Why would their kisses affect her so differently?

 _6…_ Certainty. Love. It was strange that this was the moment that the knowledge would come to her with such perfect, terrible clarity. But when Simon kissed her and she found herself wishing she’d ended their embrace sooner, she realized that she loved Max. Maybe he _was_ the guy you love forever, but that was okay. Maybe she was okay with forever. As long as it was with him.

She dropped her arms and stepped away from Simon, ending their kiss. Six seconds. Six seconds of kissing another man – the wrong man – had totally changed her life. Six seconds had finally made her open her eyes to what she wanted. Who she wanted. And it wasn’t the man in front of her.

What was she doing? This had all been a horrible mistake. Six seconds, and she realized she didn’t want to be Max’s fake-girlfriend anymore. She wanted him for real. She wanted him forever. She wasn’t afraid anymore – or, rather, if she was, she was no longer willing to delude herself that her fear was greater than her love for Max. For her best friend. She wanted him. She wanted to be able to kiss him any time the mood struck her without having to pretend that it was all an act. To do it just because he was hers.

Six seconds, and she almost lost the best, most real thing in her life.

She didn’t know that she already had. And all it had taken was three.

* * *

Staggering backwards, Max spun on his heel and retreated as quickly as he could, not wanting either party to the kiss to see him standing there. Not knowing what he would say to Zoey if she did. He would have expected the most devastating moment in his life to hurt more, but the truth was, he felt…numb. He stared down at the ibuprofen bottle in his hand like it was an alien object, unable to comprehend where it had come from or what it was for. Oh, right. Pain medicine. Zoey needed pain medicine.

He couldn’t face her. So, stumbling towards Zoey’s desk, he put the ibuprofen bottle in front of her chair. He turned, but he couldn’t think of where to go or what to do. Supported by the edge of the desk, he felt his body collapse inward, his breath coming in desperate, pained gasps as he fought for air. His hands pressed against his forehead, he tried to clear his mind of the mental image seared into his brain, but to no avail.

“Max? Man, are you okay?” It was the uncharacteristic concern in Tobin’s voice that brought him back to himself, and he snapped into a standing position, his hands falling to his sides.

“What? Oh. Yeah. I’m just…you know what? I’m not feeling well. I think it was something I ate for breakfast. I think I’m going to take the rest of the day. Could you let everyone know for me?”

He didn’t wait for Tobin’s response. Instead, he made a beeline for the elevator, desperate to escape this place. Desperate to get some fresh air. But when he stepped through the elevator doors, his hand hit the button for the sixth floor, rather than the lobby. There was something he needed to do first.

He couldn’t keep lying to himself like this. Torturing himself like this. And if his heart was too stupid to get the message, his brain would have to step in and save him from himself.

It was time to put some distance between himself and Zoey.


	8. Chapter 8

Zoey rarely awoke with the kind of unbridled optimism that made her feel like the world had her back and everything was going to go her way. Actually, she pretty much never woke up with that feeling. But when she opened her eyes the next morning, she bounced out of bed with a smile on her face that even awareness of the early hour couldn’t diminish. As she waited for her coffee to finish brewing, she poked a nose out her window and saw that the sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and it promised to be a beautiful day. A perfect day, in fact.

 _The_ perfect day to tell Max how she felt about him.

Maybe they could even call off sick afterwards and spend the rest of this beautiful day in bed. With no pillows or blankets between them this time.

A shiver of anticipation shot down her spine, and she was tempted to start singing again. It took a force of effort, but she refrained, knowing that would only attract Mo’s attention. As much as she loved her friend and treasured his advice, she was eager to get to work and see Max. Her Max. Could she call him that now? She certainly thought about him that way. To see her Max and tell him how much she loved him and that she wasn’t scared anymore.

She got an idea, so after she flipped down the lever to start toasting her breakfast, she grabbed a piece of paper and jotted down a quick note for Mo. As soon as the bread popped up again, she grabbed her rather uninspiring breakfast of dry toast and hot coffee and raced out the door. After trying to figure out how she felt about Max for months, it seemed she now couldn’t wait another minute to see him.

Stepping into the hall, she paused long enough to slip the note under Mo’s door. _“Next time I see you, I will have earned that bacon!”_

With that task done, and feeling incredibly pleased with herself, she hopped up on her toes and raced out the door. It was going to a beautiful, perfect day. Impatient even for the few minutes it would take to see him to pass, she pulled out her phone and reread their text exchange from the night before. In her euphoric, romantic haze, it didn’t occur to her now any more than it had to her then, how uncharacteristically brief and abrupt he’d been in his responses.

_“Leif said you weren’t feeling well. Is everything okay?”_

_“Yeah, thanks. I’ll be fine.”_

_“This isn’t because I stole your side of the bed last night, is it?”_ she’d joked, ending the question with a grinning emoji.

_“No, of course not.”_

_“Well, I hope you feel better! If you’re feeling up to it, my mom wanted to have a movie night tomorrow. You want to come? I should warn you, there’s a 50/50 chance it ends in a game of charades or something.”_ It was a family tradition they usually didn’t inflict upon friends and other guests, but they’d long since invited – or, some might say, coerced – Max into joining in. Zoey shook her head, wondering how she hadn’t caught on to the significance of that sooner. _“When I talked to David earlier, he mentioned Emily, a rematch, and something about a blood debt.”_ Unsurprising to everyone, Emily did not take a defeat lying down, and Zoey and Max had always been a formidable team.

She watched the three ellipses flash at the bottom of the screen for a few moments, and then his response came through. _“No problem. I’ll be there.”_

Worried she was pushing him when he wasn’t feeling well, she texted, _“You sure you’re okay? I could bring you some chicken noodle soup if you’re sick.”_

A full minute passed before she received his response. _“No, I’ll be okay. Just need to lie down.”_

_“All right, well…I’ll see you tomorrow at work. Feel better!”_

_“See you.”_

Smiling at their brief exchange, ignorant about what was to follow, Zoey slipped her phone into her pocket and picked up her pace. It wouldn’t be long before she saw Max, she hoped. And then… well, and then, everything was going to be all right.

When she walked into SPRQ Point offices a few minutes later, however, her joy morphed to confusion. Max was dressed in a suit, standing by the windows and staring out at the beautiful blue sky. Whether because he heard the ding of the elevator or by coincidence, she couldn’t be sure, but he turned when she walked into the room. Without moving from his spot, his bowed head failing to entirely obscure his expression of sorrow and loss, he began to sing his heart song.

_“I know I can’t take one more step towards you, ‘cause all that’s waiting is regret. Don’t you know I’m not your ghost anymore. You lost the love I loved the most. I learned to live, half alive. And now you want me one more time.”_

Zoey stumbled to a halt, looking at him in confusion. She’d had her superpower for long enough to no longer be surprised at hearing one of his heart songs, but she hadn’t expected to hear this one. After everything that happened between them, after the heart song he’d sung her the morning before, why was he singing to her now of loss and heartache?

He continued, turning back to the window and resting his weight against one arm as he stared out at the city. _“Who do you think you are? Runnin’ ‘round leaving scars. Collecting your jar of hearts, and tearing love apart. You’re gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul. So don’t come back for me. Who do you think you are?”_

“Max?” she asked, taking another step forward.

As always during a heart song, he acted like he hadn’t heard her question as he pivoted on one foot, walking over to his desk. He began to dump items into a large cardboard box as he sang, _“It took so long just to feel alright, remember how to put back the light in my eyes. I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed. ‘Cause you broke all your promises. And now you’re back. You don’t get to get me back.”_

Desperate to understand what was happening, Zoey raced to his side, reaching out to put one hand on his arm. _“Who do you think you are? Runnin’ ‘round leaving scars. Collecting your jar of hearts, and tearing love apart. You’re gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul. So don’t come back for me. Who do you think you are?”_

His song trailed off, and Zoey asked softly, her voice uncertain, “Max? What’s – what’s going on? Is everything okay?” Her heart ached from his song, but she still didn’t understand the meaning of it.

“Hey, Zoey!” he said, ignorant of what she had just heard, and though he sounded cheerful, his expression was reserved. “Everything’s great!” He hesitated, giving some item he’d pulled from the bottom of his desk drawer a dubious look before throwing it in the trash. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, actually. I was offered a promotion a couple of days ago, so I’ll be moving up to the sixth floor!”

Zoey felt like she was drowning, gasping for air. She couldn’t understand how Max could act like everything was fine. Like it was downright _normal_. First that song, and now he was leaving? Leaving their offices? Leaving her? Of course, he was moving two floors, not taking a rocket to the moon. But after the sorrow in his song, it felt like he was putting more than two floors between them. It felt like she was losing him completely.

Although she recognized that she should be happy for Max for his promotion, which sounded like an amazing opportunity he totally deserved, she was still reeling from his song. She had to admit that she was also a little hurt. He’d been offered a promotion and he hadn’t told her about it? They were supposed to be dating! Well…fake-dating. What was going on?

In a shaky voice, she said brightly, “Wow! That’s…amazing, Max! And very well-deserved. I’m – I’m very happy for you.”

He knew her well enough that she expected him to call her on the fact that her professed enthusiasm was belied by the fact she sounded like she wanted to cry, but he didn’t. “Thanks!”

She wanted to cry, and she couldn’t hold back her confusion any longer. “Look, can we talk for a second? In private?”

Max glanced around the nearly-empty office and then shrugged. “Sure. I need to catch Joan when she comes in, but I have a few minutes.”

Desperately needing answers, she led him to the empty hallway leading between the meditation room and the restrooms before realizing she didn’t know what to say. His heart song was the last thing she expected to hear this morning, as was the revelation he was leaving. It had barely begun to sink in; she certainly hadn’t had the time to get her thoughts in order enough to ask him relevant questions. Should she even tell him about the heart song she’d just heard? She probably should, but she didn’t know how.

In silence, she rocked back and forth from one foot to the other, trying to find the words. Finally, when she watched him glance towards the exit for the third time, she blurted, “Max, I really am happy for you. I swear. But I guess I’m just a little…confused. I thought…well, I mean, I-I don’t really understand why you didn’t tell me about this sooner.”

His fake smile didn’t so much as falter. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. I probably should have told you about it, but, you know how things get around here. I guess I just got wrapped up in work and it slipped my mind.”

“Slipped your – Max, what’s going on?” Not receiving an answer right away, she admitted, “I heard you sing out there. A heart song. It was…you sounded so heartbroken. Talk to me.”

His smile fell, and he looked at a spot over her left shoulder as he stepped away from her, saying in a hollow voice, “I don’t know what you mean.”

A tiny sob escaped before she could bite it back, and Zoey pushed her hair off of her face with hands that shook with the agonized grief she was trying not to show. In the back of her mind, she suspected she knew what had happened, but she couldn’t believe it – didn’t want to believe it – so she pushed that thought away. Her breath tight in her chest, she couldn’t bear to look into his face and see him look at her in a way he never had before. He looked at her like she was a stranger, his eyes cold, his expression distant. Like he was looking through her, rather than at her. “Max…please. I-I don’t understand. I-I just…” Stumbling towards him, she pressed her hands against his chest. “Please. Talk to me. I can fix this. Tell me how to fix this.”

For a few, precious moments, his mask slipped. His eyes were soft and yearning, and she almost flinched at the pain on his face. “Zoey, I don’t – I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“But you are! You are hurting me! Just…I know the two of us can fix this. I know it. Please…don’t…tell me what I can do. Don’t give up on me.” Earlier that morning, she’d been so excited, so eager to tell him she wanted their relationship to be real. In the last ten minutes, she felt like she’d lost everything. She had run from him so long, letting the specter of fear hold her back from even giving him a chance. She’d been terrified she would lose him one day, but having him look at her now like he didn’t even know her brought a pain that was worse than she ever could have imagined. In one last, hopeless gamble, she begged, “We’re supposed to be friends. Aren’t we?”

“We are friends,” he breathed softly. “That’s what I’m trying to be. Your friend.” With that cryptic comment, he raised one hand to brush away a tear as it slid down her cheek, but then he paused. His hand hovered mere inches from her face before he let it fall without touching her.

“Then why aren’t you _talking_ to me? I know it’s not real, but we’re supposed to be in a relationship. People in relationships – even fake relationships – tell each other things, don’t they?”

It seemed to be the exact wrong thing to say, as she felt the muscles under her palms stiffen, and though he was no longer smiling, that cold, detached look returned to his face. She’d never realized before how much love was in Max’s eyes when he looked at her, until now that he’d hidden it away. She might as well have been staring at a stranger, and she flinched, pulling her hands off his chest.

He looked down at his chest, where she’d been touching him moments before, and said softly, “That’s the thing though, isn’t it, Zoey? It wasn’t real. None of it was.”

Through her tears, Zoey watched Max start to leave, and she stumbled after him. She couldn’t let this be the end. “Wait! I know I’ve hurt you, but I came here today…I wanted to tell you that I love you, and I’m not scared anymore. I want to be with you.” He stumbled to a halt, his shoulders stiff, as though he was struggling to hold himself together. But he didn’t turn around. “You told me that if I meant it in the morning, you’d believe me, right? Well…I know it’s a little late, but I mean it. I love you, and I want to be with you.”

With none of the fluid grace that usually accompanied his movements, Max turned slightly to look at her over his shoulder. She expected anger, but there was a combination of agony and despair in his voice when he replied, “Well, then, I guess I need to apologize for being a liar. Because, I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you.” She gasped, a ragged intake of air, as he stormed through the glass doors enclosing the hall, the hinges making a loud crack as they flew open.

By the time she’d regained her composure and returned to the office, Max and his things were gone.

* * *

There was part of Zoey that wondered if she’d never see him again, so she was surprised when, at the end of a long and miserable day, Max walked off the elevator and headed towards her desk. His coat tossed over his arm, he asked, “Hey, are you ready?”

“Ready?” she asked, her eyes itchy and burning from all the tears she’d forced back over the course of the day. “Ready for what?”

“Oh, I thought…that thing with your parents. I thought that was tonight. Did I get the day wrong?” Frowning slightly, he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen, pulling up his texts.

Rising to her feet, Zoey shook her head. “No, you got it right. I just didn’t think you’d want to do this anymore. All things considered.”

That remote mask she hated so much was firmly in place as he replied, “I made a promise, and this is for Mitch, right? I’m up for it if you are. If you still think it’ll make him happy.”

She wanted to scream at him, pound against his chest, anything to get a real reaction out of him. Tell him that of course she didn’t want to do this anymore, not when he was ripping out her heart with every detached, impersonal look he gave her. But she also longed to be close to him, wanting to grab him by the arms and force him to listen to her. To believe her. To act like he loved her again.

“Zoey? Do you want me to go?” he asked softly, almost sounding like himself again as she stared morosely at her desk in silence and tried to decide what to do.

Those six little words, “do you want me to go,” made her feel like her heart was physically ripping in two, and that was enough to make the decision for her. Even if it hurt to be near him, being without him would hurt even more. If he could carry on with his charade, so could she. And maybe, in the meantime, she could find a way to get through to him again. “No,” she said abruptly. “I don’t want you to go.”

It was strange to realize that it was the little things from Max that she missed the most, Zoey marveled as she took his hand and gave it a tug, silently asking him for a kiss. She didn’t know what compelled her to do it. Was she testing him, or just torturing herself? Either way, he dutifully leaned down and brushed his lips against hers in a perfunctory embrace before walking with her to the elevator.

From the outside, they probably looked like everything was as it had been the day before, but Zoey could feel the difference – in his dispassionate kiss, and the way his hand lay still in her own. She’d never realized before how often the feeling of Max’s hand in hers had felt like a small caress, his fingers tightening around her own, his thumb brushing softly and comfortingly along hers. Now, holding his hand was just another reminder that, even though he was right next to her, his heart was a million miles away, locked up tight somewhere she could no longer reach. Even when he spoke to her, it was to talk about the weather, the rush hour traffic – absolutely everything except anything that actually mattered.

She didn’t know what compelled her to do it, as they headed towards her parents’ house. Maybe it was out of a need to feel _some_ passion from him again, even if it was anger. Just to remember what it had been like when she’d had Max in her life, and not this automaton that wore a face she’d come to love so much. Whatever her motives, she blurted, “Max, we should talk. About the kiss.”

For the first time that evening, that got a reaction out of him. His fingers pressed against hers, less a squeeze than a quick spasm. “I don’t really want to talk about that.”

“We have to,” she pressed. “We can’t just leave things – us – like this.”

His face was averted from her, but she heard his heavy sigh. “All right. Which kiss do you want to talk about? The one outside of SPRQ Point, or the one in Simon’s office? Because I kind of feel like they speak for themselves, don’t you?”

There was a certain measure of relief in knowing that her suspicion was right, and he’d somehow seen the ill-conceived embrace in Simon’s office. At least she had an answer for his coldness, even if it was the absolute last one she wanted. “Max, that kiss…it wasn’t what you think!”

He feigned surprise. “It wasn’t? Was he choking on something and you were trying to dislodge it with your tongue? Because that’s not how I learned the Heimlich Maneuver.”

“Stop it,” she snapped, yanking her hand from his. “You’re doing it again. Don’t make jokes about this. This is serious -”

Whatever control he’d had on his emotions all day, allowing him to present his impersonal mask to her, it slipped as he lurched to a stop, spinning to face her. “You think I don’t know that? You think I’m not taking this seriously? Zoey, I don’t know what you expect from me, but I just can’t do this anymore! I can’t keep putting myself out there time and time again, only to…do you have any idea how it felt for me, seeing that?”

“Max, listen. I know how it looked. I do. But it really wasn’t – it didn’t mean anything! It was just -”

His head jerked as he swallowed heavily. “Well, I wish it did. Because if my heart was going to be broken, I would have preferred it actually _meant_ something.”

Frustrated with him and angry at herself for having brought them to this, she felt her hands form fists at her sides. “I know you’re angry with me, but you know that’s not what I meant,” she snapped.

Like a puncture in a balloon, she watched as the air left his body, seemingly taking his will to fight along with it. His shoulders sagged, and his head bowed as though he carried the weight of the world. Defeated, he said softly, “You’re wrong. I’m not mad at you, Zoey. Not really. I’m mad at me. You were honest with me from the beginning. You told me none of this meant anything. And I knew it; I reminded myself of it, time and time again. But, even still, I stupidly let myself believe it did. I let myself believe…I don’t know. That you loved me. Or maybe that there was a chance one day you even could.”

She breathed his name, hopelessly trying to find a way to make him listen. Knowing he was about to leave. But then, just when she expected him to turn and walk away, he did what she’d so recently come to realize that he always did. He pushed his own pain aside and tried to offer her comfort. Instead of walking away, he moved closer to her, cupping his face in his and leaning down to press his forehead against her own. “I’m sorry. Don’t cry, sweetheart. Please don’t cry.” She didn’t even realize she was until she felt him brush his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away her tears. “I don’t what to hurt you. I just don’t know how to do…this. I don’t know how to stop loving you, and I don’t know how to kill that part of me that wishes…” His voice trailed off, the rest too painful to say.

“But I do love you,” she admitted miserably, reaching up to press a hand against his cheek. “I wanted to tell you this morning. I realized it yesterday. I don’t know what took me so long, but you have to believe me.”

She could tell that he didn’t in the way he avoided responding, turning his head to press a kiss against her palm as he pulled away. “It’s all right,” he reassured her. “Don’t feel guilty. It’ll be all right.”

She shivered at the press of his lips against her skin, but he seemed to misunderstand the response, as he grabbed the coat he still carried over his arm and slung it over her shoulders. Glancing towards her parents’ house, he murmured, “What do you want me to do, Zoey? If you want me to go in there with you, I will, but if you want me to go, I’ll go. Whatever you want, just tell me and I’ll do it.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Hey, guys. Sorry we’re a little late. You didn’t start the movie without us?” Zoey asked as she opened her parents’ front door and walked inside. Reluctantly, she shrugged out of the coat he’d wrapped her in, wishing she could think of an excuse to keep it on. She didn’t really need the warmth, but it smelled like him and so it brought her a measure of comfort. She turned to ask him if he wanted it back, but he was looking in the other direction, and she wasn’t strong enough to get his attention. So, instead, she hung it in the coat closet.

“Of course not,” her mom replied cheerfully, giving her a hug. “Your dad decided he wanted to start with charades anyway. I decided to have a little fun with it, so tonight’s theme is movie titles. Max, everyone’s in the other room, setting up, if you want to go on in.”

He brushed her, heading into the living room, and Zoey found herself starting at his back with such longing, it took her breath away. What would he do if she called out to him? Asked him to come back? Told him she needed him to hold her?

Maggie made a soft sound. “Zoey, I was just about to grab drinks for everyone. Do you want to help me?”

“Is this another one of those things where you pretend you need my help, but secretly you want to grill me about something?” she asked dubiously as she followed her mom into the kitchen.

“Of course not!” Maggie lied smoothly. Then, her eyes wide with deceptive innocence, she asked, “Why? Is there something I need to grill you about?”

She reached into the refrigerator with a sigh as she asked morosely, “If I said no, would you believe me?”

Maggie reached for some glasses. “I’m your mother; of course I would believe you,” she answered. “And I wouldn’t even think of mentioning the fact that you look like you’ve been crying. Or the way Max was looking at you until you turned to look at him. Or the way you looked at him when his back was turned.”

“He was looking at me?” she asked in a tiny, hopeful voice.

“Zoey, what is going on? Is everything okay with you two?” she asked, in lieu of answering the question.

Her shoulders slumping, she admitted softly, “I don’t know what to say, Mom. I…I screwed up, and I hurt him. A lot. He’s…he’s giving up on me, and I just don’t know how to fix it.” She felt the urge to cry again, but she fought back the tears, scared that if she cried now – in front of her mother – she wouldn’t be able to stop.

Maggie gave her a sympathetic look. “I can’t imagine you did anything as bad as all that.”

Resting her shoulders on the counter, she placed her chin in one hand and threw her mother a morose look. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

“Have you tried talking to him?”

“I’ve tried! But he doesn’t believe me, and I don’t know how to make him! What if I can’t, and I lose him completely? I can’t even imagine my life without Max.”

Putting the glasses on the counter, her mother wrapped her in a tight hug. “Oh, Zoey. I know it’s hard, and you’re scared, but if there’s one thing I don’t doubt for a second, it’s how much the two of you love each other. And if there’s one thing that I’ve learned from a lifetime of loving your father, it’s that as long as you love each other, you can work through this together.”

Zoey pulled back and threw her mother a skeptical look. “I appreciate the advice, but I don’t think you and dad ever screwed up as badly as I just screwed things up with Max.”

Her mom laughed. “I know it seems like that _now_ , but we were still so young when we met; we still had so many things we had to learn. You don’t think we ever did anything stupid or thoughtless? That I never worried that I’d driven your father so crazy, he might just be done with me?”

“But…you guys always have always seemed so solid! You have, like, the perfect marriage!”

Maggie snorted. “Oh, sure, it seems like that now, but it took us some time to get there. You know how Mitch loves his big moments? Well, we’d only been dating for a couple months and he decided he wanted to take me to a basketball game and do this huge gesture using the Jumbotron. In retrospect, it was very sweet, but I wasn’t really ready for anything like that.”

As Maggie dropped her arms and started to gather the drinks onto a tray, Zoey asked, “But you love those big gestures!”

“I do now! But back then, it was so different from anything I’d been used to. I mean, when you’re having an affair with a married man, you don’t really do big gestures. It’s more discrete sneaking around and clandestine rendezvous. So, needless to say, I didn’t respond very well, and we ended up having a huge argument.”

Zoey bit her lip. “So how did the two of you get through it?”

Lifting the tray and turning towards the living room, her mom replied, “We remembered how much we loved each other, and holding on to that was more important than any argument we could have.”

Grabbing the two bottles of beer her mom couldn’t fit on the tray, Zoey followed her into the other room. As she walked in, she saw Max sitting on the couch, next to her dad. Emily was standing in front of him, and Zoey watched as she took his hand and pressed it against her stomach. “Do you feel it?”

If Zoey didn’t love him already, she thought she would have fallen for him all over again when she saw the look of wonder on his face at the feel of the baby’s kick. “Emily, that’s…incredible. Thank you.”

Oblivious to her daughter’s emotional turmoil, Maggie walked towards the group, calling cheerfully, “Okay, who needs a drink? Max, how about a beer?”

“Ah, sure,” he agreed, pulling his hand off Emily’s stomach and throwing Maggie a smile. “Thank you.”

“Oh, gee. I don’t seem to have one,” Maggie replied, the regret in her voice a little over-the-top as she thrust the only one on her tray into David’s hand.

Somewhat startled, David began to protest, “Actually, I was going to ask for -” Since Maggie’s back was to Zoey, she couldn’t see the look on her mother’s face. But whatever David saw there, he wisely changed course. “A beer, of course. Thank you.”

Plowing ahead, Maggie continued brightly, “But I think Zoey has a beer for you. Zoey?”

* * *

Max watched as Zoey, blushing bright red, crept forward, holding out one of the bottles for him to take. It was all he could do not to laugh aloud at Maggie’s not-so-subtle maneuvering. He didn’t know what the two had talked about in the kitchen, but he’d learned long ago that nothing much got past the heads of the Clarke family. But knowing Zoey as he did, he also knew she was equal parts touched and desperate to set herself on fire, so he threw her a week and a cheeky grin, mouthing, “Subtle.”

“Sorry,” she mouthed back, blushing even brighter red if that were possible, but he just shook his head slightly, silently reassuring her. She handed over his drink, and he let his hand linger a little longer than necessary when it brushed against hers.

“Okay, now that I have the beer I definitely wanted, let’s get this party started!” David interjected cheerfully, rubbing his hands together. “Zoey and Max, Emily and I are willing to take pity on you this time and let you go first. It’s the least we can do, since we’re about to totally obliterate you.” It was possible David took charades a little too seriously.

Max snorted. “You say that, but you’re going to need that beer to have something to cry into when we’re done with you,” he joked in return. “Zoey, swee –” He caught himself mid-endearment, choked slightly when he realized what he was saying and the word got caught in the back of his throat, then tried to continue when he remembered that it was just the sort of thing that would continue to sell their fictional relationship. “-eetheart,” he finished, the word tumbling awkwardly off his tongue, broken in half by a strange hiccup in the middle. With a strangled cough, he tried to recover. “Do you want to go first?”

He’d seen Zoey flinch when he mangled the pet name, but she plastered a smile on her face and nodded. “Of course.” She took a quick drink of her beer, then he watched as she reached into the bowl and grabbed a piece of paper, giving it a quick glance before tossing it aside.

God, she was so beautiful.

He shook his head, trying to dislodge the thought. If he was ever going to convince his heart that it didn’t love her anymore, he had to stop thinking like that. Though he imagined the heat death of the universe would happen before he managed to fall out of love with her, he had to try. Picking at the peeling label on his beer bottle, he pondered the cute girl at the gym that flirted with him every time he came in. It probably wouldn’t be fair to ask her out just yet, but maybe one day…

He shouldn’t be thinking about this now. Not in front of her parents, when they were supposed to be pretending to be a couple. The more he thought about it, the more miserable he became, and he was struggling as it was to smile and keep up the act. When all this was over, he was going to need to ask Zoey for a break. He needed to take some time to get his head in order. As much as he kept telling himself to close off his heart and keep his distance, one look in her eyes shattered his resolve. When she cried, his body ached to do anything he could to take away her pain. Which only left him with his own.

Lost in thought, he didn’t hear what David said, but he chuckled softly when he heard the rest of her family laughing in response. Rubbing his hand across his forehead, he tried to stifle his melancholy sigh. He had to pull his mind off her, off his heartache, off the bewilderment he felt when he tried to decide which was worse – the ache in his chest now, or the emptiness he would feel if he couldn’t get a hold of himself and lost Zoey completely.

No, he was getting ahead of himself. He wouldn’t lose her. He just needed some time. If he couldn’t stop loving her, perhaps he could find a way to lock those feelings deep inside himself and move on with his life. Yeah, maybe he would ask out that girl at the gym. What was her name? Sandy? Carol? Maybe it was Alice…

“All right, enough fooling around, you guys. We need to focus,” Emily cut in, leaning forward and staring at Zoey with the kind of laser-like intensity usually reserved for scientists tasked with splitting atoms. David wasn’t the only one who took charades _very_ seriously.

Max chuckled and caught Zoey’s eye, subconsciously wanting her to share in his silent amusement as he took another long sip of beer. He was going to have to slow down a little if he didn’t want to get tipsy and make a fool out of himself, but he wouldn’t mind a slight buzz, if it helped take away his memory of his earlier breakdown and confession. Not to mention, well, everything else.

“Okay, Zoey. You ready?” Maggie asked as Mitch reached for the button to start the timer.

Her eyes locked on Max, she opened her mouth, presumably to respond. Instead, she started to sing. _“What did you think I would do at this moment…”_

Surprised, Max sucked in a sharp breath mid-swallow, accidentally inhaling his sip of beer. He spluttered, choking, trying to catch his breath as he sat up abruptly on the couch. Zoey clamped one hand over her mouth and stared at him in horror, a tiny, frantic shake of her head the silent answer to his unasked question. She was not doing this intentionally.

Maggie let out a small, surprised laugh. Emily threw Zoey a confused look while David slapped Max on the back, trying to clear his airway. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he wheezed, scrambling to his feet.

Zoey clearly tried to hold her hand in place, and it shook as it fell away. She continued, _“When you’re standing before me with tears in your eyes…”_ She snapped her jaw closed, pressing her lips together in a futile attempt to bite back her song.

“Zoey, what are you doing?” Emily pressed. “This is charades, not karaoke.”

Max forced a loud laugh, trying to divert her family’s attention from the impromptu musical number that was about to play out in front of them. He had to do something to get Zoey out of there. Fast. Before the situation got any worse. Boxed in on both sides, he realized it would take too long to scoot around the coffee table in front of the couch, so he jumped over it instead, nearly stumbling in his haste to get to her side. “Ha! Oh, yeah. It’s okay, Emily. This is…um…this is just a little thing…Zoey and I do. She, uh, lost a bet earlier and, um -”

_“Trying to tell me that you have found you another, and you just don’t love me no more…”_

Raising his voice to drown out her singing, he blurted, “Actually, would you guys excuse us for a second? We should really…” he gestured vaguely. “Outside.”

Zoey couldn’t stop herself from singing, so he bent down and pressed his lips against hers. She made a tiny little squeak of surprise, but when she opened her mouth, he deepened the kiss. Anything to help her stop singing until he could get her someplace private. The day would probably come when she would have to tell her family about her mysterious superpower, but this was probably not the place, and it was definitely not the time.

She grabbed onto him, cupping his face in her hands, and he honestly didn’t know if she was clinging to him because she wanted to continue their kiss, or if she was just desperate to stop herself from singing. Max shot a quick look towards the front door out of the corner of his eye and, at a loss how else to move her without breaking off the kiss, swept her into his arms.

“All right, all right you two! Take it outside!” David grumbled good-naturedly, and Max raced to the exit as fast as he could while still trying to act casual.

Behind him, he heard some movement, the soft crinkle of paper, and then Emily mumble in a bewildered tone, “Okay, but what did that song had to do with _The Princess Bride_?”

Max was in such a rush to get out of the house, he tripped on the threshold and tumbled, having to shift his hold on Zoey as they careened down the porch steps. Off-balance by her weight, he did a strange half-spin as he hit the ground, barely breaking his stride on his mad dash down the walk. If he could only get her to the street. Surely her parents wouldn’t hear her from the street. _Just a few more seconds, Zoey. Give me just a few more seconds._

She made another surprised squeak and moved her hands to his shoulders to keep from tumbling out of his arms, but it was enough for their kiss to break off, and she began to sing again. _“What did you think I would say at this moment? When I’m faced with the knowledge that you just don’t love me…”_

She began to wiggle in his arms, trying to regain her feet, and he barely made it to the street before he had to put her down. Panting from the exertion, and almost certain he had pulled something when he fell off the front steps, he didn’t struggle when she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him closer, pressing her forehead against his as she crooned, _“Did you think I would curse you, or say things to hurt you? ‘Cause you just don’t love me no more…”_

“Zoey,” he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “Please.” If this was a heart song – and he was certainly willing to believe it was, since he doubted she’d have started singing in front of her family – he knew she couldn’t control herself. That didn’t make it any easier to hear.

Nuzzling him with her cheek, she sang softly in his ear, _“Did you think I could hate you? Or raise my hands to you? Now, come on, you know me too well. How could I hurt you, when darling I love you. And you know I’d never hurt you.”_

She trailed a line of kisses along his jaw, and he moaned again. He knew he should release her and step back, but he couldn’t force his arms to let her go. She trailed her hands along the line of his neck and then down his chest, her fingers exploring a soft path across his stomach. His knees buckled, and he pulled her harder against him.

She brushed her lips against his, and he told himself he shouldn’t kiss back. True, it was a heart song, but she wasn’t entirely in her right mind at the moment. She wasn’t in control of her words. Or her actions, he reminded himself when she nipped his lower lip with her teeth.

_“What do you think I would give at this moment? If you’d stay, I’d subtract twenty years from my life. I’d fall down on my knees -”_

He couldn’t look at her and retain any self-control, so he kept his eyes squeezed shut as he caressed her collarbone, his fingers caressing the back of her neck as held her to him. Tilting his head, he breathed her in. He shouldn’t kiss her. He told himself he shouldn’t kiss her. But how much could a man take? As soft as a whisper, he pleaded, “Damn it, Zoey. Tell me to stop. Tell me to walk away. Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you.”

She hesitated, but he sucked in a ragged gasp when she relaxed against him, her body pressing against his. Her breath was as warm and soft as the caress of her lips against his as she whispered, “Max? I think…we have a lot to talk about. Take me home.”


	10. Chapter 10

Zoey was subdued as she led Max into her apartment. Her heart song had apparently convinced him to listen, but she wasn’t sure how to get him to give her a second chance. She didn’t know how to convince him of the truth.

But as lost and confused as she was, she knew that this was perhaps her one chance to make him understand. She refused to squander it. For the first time, she knew she wasn’t afraid anymore. If she could just get through to him, their love would be strong enough.

Taking his hand, she led him to the couch. “So.” She attempted to lob the first conversational volley, but nothing came immediately to mind.

As always, Max saved her. “So…that was quite the heart song you sang back there.”

“Yeah,” she agreed sheepishly. “But at least…it has to prove that I was telling the truth about my feelings for you. Doesn’t it?”

“It does,” he agreed, but there was just enough of a pause before he replied, and he dragged out the second word just long enough, that she knew it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“But?” she prompted.

He sighed. “But…I don’t want to hurt you, but I need to be honest with you, Zo. I’m not sure it matters if you were telling the truth.” Slumping, he linked his fingers behind his head and sighed. “The thing is, I’ve heard it before. Your heart song, telling me that you loved me. And just look what happened! You sang to me that you loved me, then you sang a song to Simon. You come over to my place and tell me you love me, and I know you were drunk but…how was I supposed to react to that? I _wanted_ to believe it! And then you go and…” Dropping his hands, he looked over at her, and his eyes were sad. “I’m not sure if just knowing you love me is enough for me anymore.”

She bit her lip. “So you are mad at me,” she said softly.

“No!” he began to protest, before heaving a heavy sigh. “All right, yes. I guess I am. I’m just…I’m tired of being the fallback guy. I love you, Zoey. I’ve never had to question it. I’ve just _known_ it. You will never come second to me, but I seem to always come second to you. How am I supposed to deal with that?”

She grabbed his hand, holding it in hers. “You aren’t second to me, Max! You aren’t! It isn’t like that! I admit I’ve been…confused. Scared. I was running away from my feelings. From you.”

He pulled his hand away. “And how do you think _that_ makes me feel? To know that I’m _so sure_ about you, the person I love – the person I am _that sure_ about, well, isn’t really sure how they feel about me?”

“That isn’t fair, Max. This kind of stuff…it isn’t easy for me. But that doesn’t mean I’m not trying, and it doesn’t mean it isn’t real.”

His gaze dropped to the floor. “I know it isn’t fair. But it’s how I feel. And I can’t keep pretending it isn’t, even to myself, because I’m scared it will hurt you to hear.”

She dropped her head, watching her fingers twist anxiously in her lap. “So where do we go from here?” she asked, her voice soft and sad.

A long silence followed her question, during which she held her breath, praying he would say something that would make it all right. Instead, he replied sadly, “I don’t know. I just can’t be your backup plan, when things with Simon don’t work out.” When she started to protest, he shook his head. “I know you’re telling me now that’s not what this is, and trust me, I want to believe that. You have no idea how much I want to believe that. I just…can’t.”

Shifting in her seat, she wanted to reach for him, but he felt like he was a million miles away from her. “So this is it? I was so scared of losing you that I lost you anyway.”

Max stood, and she followed him to the door. “Not exactly. I mean, we’ll always be friends, right? I just need a little time to find my way back there.”

“But this thing…for my dad…are we still…”

He turned his head quickly, but not fast enough to entirely conceal his wince, and she realized that she was doing it again. Putting Max’s feelings second. Behind herself, behind Simon, behind her dad. That she didn’t doubt he understood why she was doing it in this instance didn’t change the fact she was doing it. And probably didn’t make it hurt any less.

But as he always did, he let her. His smile was reassuring when he turned back to face her. “Yeah, of course. You know I’d do anything for Mitch.” Hesitating a brief second, he leaned down and pressed a kiss against her cheek.” See you later, Zoey.”

She sighed as she closed the door behind him, leaning heavily against its solid surface. It took her a few minutes to clear her head, but then she knew what she had to do. Not for herself. Not to convince Max to love her. But for him. Because even if she had been driven by fear for too long and lost her chance at his love, he had to understand that he was wrong. He wasn’t a second choice. He deserved so, so much better than that.

It was going to require her to be just a little bit brave. But she could do it. For Max.

* * *

_“Are you free for lunch today? I wanted to meet up with my dad, since we skipped out on charades.”_

_“Sure! What’d you have in mind?”_

_“Meet me at that park a couple blocks away at noon? I thought my dad would like the fresh air.”_

_“Sounds good. See you there!”_

Trying to not pace, Zoey read the text for the fourth time in as many minutes, wanting to reassure herself that she hadn’t gotten it wrong. Max was on his way.

“This was a lovely idea, Zoey. Your father and I haven’t been on a picnic for years!” Maggie said cheerfully, laying out the blanket.

With some effort, Emily lowered herself onto the ground and started spreading out the food. “If this is all leading to you trying to convince us that your forfeited game of charades shouldn’t count as a loss, you’re wasting your time.”

“It didn’t even occur to me!” Zoey replied with wounded dignity. Actually, she probably would have made the effort, if she didn’t have so much on her mind.

“Uh huh,” her sister-in-law replied with a skeptical snort.

David took a seat beside her, being careful not to get grass stains on his suit. “What is this about, anyway? Not that I’m not glad to have lunch with everyone, of course, but you made it sound like an emergency.”

She took a deep breath. “I know. I’ll explain everything when Max gets here. I promise.” She was tempted to pull her phone out to read his texts one more time, but just then, she saw him approach. Although it sent the butterflies in her stomach into overdrive, she paused to admire the sight of him. Dressed all in black, his hair adorably tousled by the wind, she wondered how she ever could have been blind to how easily he took her breath away.

“Hey, guys! Sorry I’m a few minutes late. I had a meeting that ran over,” he greeted them apologetically as he placed his hand on Zoey’s waist and bent for a brief kiss. She put her hand on his shoulder, longing to hold him close to her forever, but she didn’t protest when he straightened and moved away to help finish setting things up.

Her family settled in to eat, and Zoey shot a quick look at her dad. He was just waiting patiently, staring at her, and she wondered if he somehow knew what she was about to do. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking. She sucked in a long, shaky breath, trying to gather her courage. But then her gaze drifted to Max, and courage wasn’t so hard to find. As nervous as she was about disappointing her parents – particularly her father – she had no doubt she was doing the right thing.

“Before we get started, there’s something…I need to tell you. All of you,” she began, standing in front of her family stretched out on the lawn. I know you’ll probably have a million questions about what I’m about to say, but just…hear me out, okay?”

Max looked up at her in surprise. Then, glancing around the group, he seemed to suspect what she was about to do because he sat bolt upright. “Zoey, you don’t have to do this…” he began, jumping to his feet.

“Yes, I do,” she argued, holding up one hand to stop him in his tracks. Turning her attention back to her family, she continued, “The thing is, I haven’t been very fair to Max. For a while, now, really. And I realized last night that he deserves so much better than what I’ve put him through. So much better.” She paused, looking at her dad. “And all of you deserve the truth.”

“Zoey,” Max protested again, stepping around the picnic blanket to approach her, but she ignored him as Emily looked between them.

“This isn’t going to be another one of those moments where the two of you totally bail on us to go make out or something, is it?”

Her laugh was shaky, uncertain. Rueful. “No, pretty much the opposite, actually.”

Max tried to stop her one more time. Cupping her chin, he gently tilted her head back so he could meet her eyes and murmured, “You really don’t have to do this. Not for me.” She didn’t reply, simply grabbing his hand in hers and hold it tight as she turned back to her family.

“The truth is, a few weeks ago, Max really did hire an entire flash mob to tell me he loves me, and I did freak out. But…the rest of what we said was a lie. We aren’t together.” Her voice caught on the last word, but she forced herself to continue. “Romantically, I mean. We never have been.”

Her mom shot them both a confused look as she said in a tone of amused confusion, “Well, you’ve certainly been doing a lot of kissing for two people who aren’t dating!”

“I know,” she admitted, squeezing Max’s hand. “The thing is, when we got the news that…that dad was in the final stage of his illness, I wanted to give him one last big moment to celebrate. You know? So I…” Her voice caught, falling to barely above a whisper as she continued, “I asked Max to pretend to be my boyfriend. So dad wouldn’t worry about me when he…when he…” She couldn’t say it.

Her mom breathed her name in a shocked undertone. In response, stroking his thumb reassuringly along the curve of her hand, Max cut in, “She asked me if I knew anyone who would be willing to do it, and I volunteered.” He was trying to protect her, as he always did, and the realization made her heart ache.

Zoey was tempted to stop there. She knew their confusion would turn to condemnation as she continued, and she couldn’t stand to see that in their eyes. She especially couldn’t stand to see the pain her words would cause Max. But she owed him more honesty than she had yet offered, and so she bowed her head as she admitted, “But the thing is, I knew he would. I knew how he felt about me, and I knew pretending like this would hurt him. I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I did it anyway.”

“That’s…uh…that’s quite the story,” David finally spoke, breaking the silence that had fallen in the group. “I know your heart was in the right place, Zoey, even if I don’t agree with what you did. But Max? I don’t understand what you were thinking!”

“Don’t blame him,” she begged before Max could respond. “He did it for me. And I let him because…I think I wanted to pretend it was true. Even if I didn’t want to admit it. But Max…he’s been amazing through everything. Truly. He’s been willing to do whatever I asked him, just to make dad happy. Even though I’ve done nothing but hurt him over and over again.” She shot him a look out of the corner of her eye, bracing herself for what she was about to confess. “Even more than he knows.”

He hesitated, throwing her a confused look, and she charged ahead before she could lose her nerve. “Max had sung a song to me, to confess his feelings, so I decided to do the same. I sang a love song to him.” It was a small distortion of the truth, and she’d considered confessing all. But at the last minute, she decided it would be too much to try to explain her powers to her family, or the strange glitch she had experienced. As honest as she was trying to be, telling them that she had connected to her father in a way they couldn’t would only cause unnecessary pain. Even if they believed her, which was unlikely. “Then I…I kind of threw myself at Simon. I kissed him.”

She watched as Max recoiled at this confession, though he tried to hide it. She’d never told him that the kiss he had witnessed had not been their first. But the time for hiding the truth from him was over. He deserved honesty, even if it meant she lost him forever. He dropped her hand, and she curled hers into a fist, missing his warmth.

Her heart heavy in her chest, she concluded her confession. “I was confused, and I didn’t know what I wanted. So I did it again. I told Max I loved him, and then Simon and I…we kissed. Every time Max and I got close, I ran. Like I did after he sang to me. I’ve been an idiot, making one bad decision after another this whole time.”

Emily shifted uncomfortably on the ground. “Uh…this is fascinating, but I’m not sure we need to know all this,” she pointed out, trying to soften the harsh edge to her voice. In some ways, she wasn’t any better at dealing with other people’s emotions than Zoey. Maggie murmured something to her, and she cried defensively, “What? We were all thinking it!”

“You’re probably right, Emily, but after all this time, I owed you the truth.” Though she was addressing everyone, she spoke directly to Max. Although she’d managed to keep her feelings under control this whole time, but now that her confession was near the end, she found herself struggling not to cry.

Swallowing heavily, she glanced at her parents. “I’m sorry. Mom, Dad…David, Emily. I know I owe all of you an apology. I’m sorry I lied to you.” Then, turning to Max again, with her heart aching, she continued, “But mostly I’m sorry to you, Max. I know I’ve lost…everything. Your love. Your trust. And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“Zoey,” he breathed, but she shook her head, needing to get through this once and for all.

“No. I was selfish in wanting to pretend we were together when I knew how you felt about me. And I let my fear blind me to how I felt about you for too long. I know I’ve missed my chance, and none of this changes anything. But I really am sorry. But even if I haven’t showed it, I wanted you to know that…you’re wonderful. And…and you aren’t my backup plan. You aren’t my second choice. You never were. You’re…you’re my forever guy.”

“I…” He was staring at her with wide eyes, and she watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed heavily. He turned from her to her family and scanned their faces like he didn’t know what to say. “I…”

He looked to Zoey again, and she was amazed to see a tiny smile lurk at the corners of his mouth. “Actually, will you guys excuse the two of us? I think this is definitely one of those moments where Zoey and I bail on you so we can go make out.”

He didn’t wait for a response, grabbing Zoey’s hand and pulling her away. But they didn’t get far; when they ran behind a tree, she tugged at his hand, pulling him to a stop. He turned, pressing his back against the rough bark and pulling her into his arms.

“What -?” she started to ask, but that was as far as she got before his mouth was on hers, demanding and hungry. She speared her fingers into his hair, holding his head in place as she returned his kiss. She wasn’t sure what this meant, but if this was to be the final embrace the two would ever share, she would make it last, and she would carry this memory to the end of her days.

When the kiss broke off, she rested her forehead against his. Since their charade had begun, the scent of Max’s aftershave had clung to her, so that she carried him with her everywhere. Keeping her eyes closed, Zoey breathed him in. If she had the power to stop time, she would choose this moment to freeze, to live in for an eternity.

“Max?” she whispered, afraid to even hope. But when she opened her eyes, she found that he was looking down at her with such love, it was a mystery that she had missed it for so long.

“Oh, Zoey,” he murmured, leaning back to caress her cheek. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“Yes,” she replied firmly. “I did.”

“And you say you’re not good at big gestures,” he teased her lightly, leaning in for another kiss.

She didn’t protest. After all their confusion and misunderstandings, after all the time they wasted, she could have kissed him forever. “I really do love you, you know,” she whispered her promise against his lips.

“Yeah,” he answered back, his voice just as soft, this time without a moment of hesitation or doubt. “I know. Thank you. For your honesty.” His hands stroked up and down her back, as though he couldn’t get enough of touching her as he brushed feather-light kisses across her cheeks, her temple, her jaw, her mouth. “Oh, and for the record? I never stopped loving you.” He nibbled softly on her lower lip. “Well, maybe a little when I found out how wrong you are about the whole Stay Puft, T-Rex thing. You’re really, _really_ wrong about that, and it’s very important to me that you admit it.”

She feigned a gasp of dismay, but she was unable to completely hide her grin as she protested, “I am _not_ wrong about that!”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Her heart warmed at the endearment. “You really, _really_ are. But more importantly…does this mean you’ve technically proposed to me? Because I’m not necessarily opposed to the idea, but don’t you think you’re moving a little fast? Anyway, I was hoping for a little more romance. You’d take me out to dinner…buy me a ring…”

This time, her gasp was real, and she laughed softly as she gave his shoulder a playful slap. “What? I did _not_ just propose to you!”

Tilting his head to the side, he gave her a skeptical smile, but he was grinning when he replied, “Mmm…really? Are you sure about that? I’m your _forever_ guy? That sounds like a proposal to me. Should we ask your family what they think? Because I think they’d agree with me.”

“Oh, my god. You are such a dork,” she groaned, rolling her eyes at him as she pulled him in for a searing kiss. Smiling against his mouth, she suggested, “I have a better idea. Do you think you could call off for the rest of the day? Because I can think of something better we could be doing.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, sounding adorably confused. “Like wha- oh. Ohhh!”

Zoey’s laughter was free and unbridled as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Like I said. You are such a dork.”


	11. Chapter 11

Zoey smiled as Max wrapped his arm around her, pulling her against his chest to nuzzle her shoulder with an affectionate kiss. “You’re awfully quiet. Penny for your thoughts,” he murmured in her ear.

She chuckled. “I’m not sure I’m able to think after _that_ ,” she joked. Then, rolling onto her back, she gave him a serious look. “Actually…this is probably going to sound a little silly. But I was just wondering…well, I usually hear heart songs when people need my help for things they aren’t dealing with, right? Do you think…now that we’re together…do you think I won’t hear your songs anymore?”

Lifting up on one elbow, he brushed her hair out of her face. “How many songs have you heard me sing?” he asked in feigned horror.

Though she knew he was teasing, she rushed to reassure him. “Just a few! Um…a couple at work. You sang a love song to me when you were helping me get to the hospital, and then again under my parents’ window later that night. Uh…after I got drunk and spent the night…”

Though he had been joking, his face fell as she continued her litany, and he actually did start to sound embarrassed. “Wow…that’s…that’s…I was expecting you to say I’ve sung heart songs to you once or twice. That’s…definitely more than I was expecting.”

“Is that bad?” she asked in a small voice.

“I wouldn’t say it’s _bad_ , but it is a little embarrassing. I was putting my feelings for you out there without knowing it.”

She reached up to run her fingers along his jaw. “I know, but…when I heard you singing under my parents’ window, I think that’s also when I maybe started to realize my feelings for you. Even if I wasn’t ready to admit it.”

He smiled and leaned down to give her a quick, reassuring kiss. “It’s okay that you heard them, Zo. I know you can’t control your powers. I just wasn’t expecting it. But if you don’t hear me sing heart songs to you anymore, wouldn’t that be a good thing? Kinda? It means everything’s out in the open between us, right?”

She nodded. “Yes, of course! But I…well…” Feeling shy, she looked down and traced idle patterns against his arm. “I just…I like hearing you sing,” she finally admitted in a soft voice.

“Well, then. I guess I’ll just have to keep singing to you so I can keep sweeping you off your feet,” he replied with a grin. “Let’s see…” He paused and pursed his lips, pretending to give it some serious thought. Then throwing her an exaggerated smolder, he started to sing. “ _You’re too sexy for your shirt. Too sexy for your shirt. So sexy it huuuuurts.”_

“Max, be serious for a second!” she said on a laugh, giving his shoulder a light smack.

“Are you saying I never sang that to you as a heart song? Because I’m pretty sure I sang it to you in my head a few times…”

Zoey shook her head, trying to fight back her laugh and failing miserably. “Okay, that’s it. I’m getting up and grabbing something to eat. _You_ can stay here.”

He yelped as she yanked off the covers, wrapping them around herself as she stood up. “Hey! It’s cold in here!”

“That’s what you get!” she announced loftily, sailing towards the other room with her head held high. She didn’t get more than a couple of steps from the bed, however, before she felt Max’s arms go around her and lift her off her feet. Zoey let out a shriek as he turned, as though to drag her back into bed, but their playful hijinks were interrupted by a knock on the door. The two lovers froze, exchanging a long look. “I can’t answer the door like this,” she whispered.

“I can get it,” he offered.

She shook her head. “Max! It’s my apartment!”

“Here. I have an idea.” Lifting the edge of the blanket, he wrapped it around them both.

“Oh, yes,” she mumbled. “This is much more dignified.”

Ignoring her complaint, Max stepped in front of her to block her from view. Then, in an awkward shuffle the two of them moved together to the front door. With as much dignity as a man dressed in a bedsheet could summon, he threw it open and gave Mo a welcoming smile. “Hey, Mo! I, uh –?”

His greeting trailed off with no small amount of confusion as Mo thrust a plate of bacon in his hands. “This is for Zoey.”

“Ah…Sure. Of course,” Max replied politely, taking the plate.

Meanwhile, Zoey scooted around him, careful to remain covered by the sheet, and blushed even harder when she saw what he held. “Hey, Mo. I was just…how-how did you know…?”

“We live in an apartment building. And I know _everything_ ,” Mo replied, throwing her a look that clearly indicated she shouldn’t have even needed to ask. Giving Max a pointed stare, he said, “Don’t forget to eat your carbs.”

“Oh,” he said awkwardly, trying to juggle the plate while holding the blanket in place. “Um…are there carbs in bacon?”

Mo ignored him, turning back to his apartment. At his door, however, he threw Zoey a mischievous smile over his shoulder. “Lips and tongue?”

Blushing, she grinned wide. “And teeth. Oh, and hands!”

Looking slightly alarmed, Max shot a look between them. “Do I want to know?”

“Mmm hmm,” Mo hummed, walking into his apartment and shutting the door.

As they followed suit, Max turned to Zoey and asked, “So, uh, does Mo show up at your door with a platter of bacon _usually_ or…?”

* * *

“Dad, I’m sorry I lied to you. About Max and me. I-I’m sure you’re disappointed. I just wish we could talk about it,” Zoey said softly, resting her head on her father’s shoulder. As much as her powers had been a blessing in allowing her to communicate with her father, they were also frustratingly limited. Unless there was a song for “I’m disappointed in you that you lied to us and to yourself about your true feelings for the love of your life, but you’re my daughter and I still love you.” Maybe a country song?

She sighed, wishing her dad could wrap his arm around her, but he of course remained still. “Honey, dinner’s about ready. Come help me set the table!” Zoey heard her mother call her from the other room and rose to join her. As she entered the kitchen, Maggie asked, “So where’s Max? He’s still planning to join us, isn’t he?”

“Hmmm?” she asked as he grabbed the silverware her mother passed over to her. “Oh, he’s on his way. He said he’d be a little late; there was something he needed to do first.”

Maggie made a noncommittal sound. “Oh, darn it, I let the pan get too hot and it’s smoking. Would you mind opening a window in the living room? I’ll get the one in here.”

Zoey looked over at the stove in surprise. “Are you sure? It’s _barely_ smoking. If you just take it off the heat, I think it’ll be fine.”

Her mom shook her head. “Oh, no. I’m afraid it’ll bother your father. I don’t want to risk it. Maybe open one by the couch, so he can get some fresh air.”

It was enough to make Zoey capitulate without further argument, so she placed the silverware back on the counter and moved towards the living room. Moving next to the couch, she nudged the drapes aside to open a window, but as soon as she lifted the sash, she heard a sound on the street below. _“It had to be you. It had to be you. I wandered around and finally found that somebody who…”_

She recognized that voice. “Max?” she asked, pulling open the drapes to get a better look. It was definitely him, standing under the streetlamp, singing up at her. Another heart song? But, no, her dad moved slightly, as though to hear better.

Max continued to sing. _“Could make me be true. Could make me be blue. And even be glad just to be sad, thinking of you.”_ Resting her hand on the window frame, she watched as Max approached, to stand directly under the window. _“Some others I’ve seen might never be mean. Might never be cross, or try to be boss, but they wouldn’t do. For nobody else gave me a thrill. With all your faults, I love you still. It had to be you. Wonderful you. It had to be you.”_

Unable to bear it any longer, she ran to the front door, throwing it open to see Max on the other side. She had intended to grab onto his shirt and drag him into the house, but her breath caught and she couldn’t move when she saw the look in his eyes. Had he always looked at her like that? Like she was his entire world? And, of so, how had she been blind to it for so long?

He reached for her, wrapping his arm around her waist and walking her back towards the living room. She shot a quick look at her parents to see Mitch watching them with wide eyes. Maggie threw Max a quick wink, and it was then that Zoey realized the two of them had been in on it together.

But her attention was captured by Max again, as he lowered his voice and sang in a soft undertone, _“Some others I’ve seen might never be mean. Might never be cross, or try to be boss,”_ he paused, throwing her a quick wink, and it made her laugh, _“but they wouldn’t do. For nobody else gave me a thrill. With all your faults, I love you still. It had to be you. Wonderful you. It had to be you.”_

As his song came to an end, he bent and kissed her, right in front of her parents. Holding her hand behind his neck so he couldn’t straighten and end the moment, she whispered, “What was that?”

His expression was soft, a small, uncertain smile lifting the corners of his mouth as he explained, “Your dad likes big moments, and that’s important to you. He missed the flash mob, so I just thought…I love you, Zoey. I will love you for the rest of my life. I just…I wanted your dad to know it, too.”

As Max’s voice trailed off, she glanced over at the couch to see her father smiling at the two of them. _“Take good care of my baby. Please don’t ever make her blue.”_ He stood as he sang, approaching the two of them and reaching out to cup his hand against her cheek. _“Just tell her that you love her. Make sure you’re thinking of her. In everything you say and do.”_

Moving around, he rested his hand on Max’s back, looking at the younger man with such pride and affection, Zoey had no doubt of how much Max meant to him. _Aw, take good care of my baby. Now, don’t you ever let her cry. Just let your love surround her. Paint a rainbow all around her. Don’t let her see a cloudy sky.”_

He moved back to the couch, singing the final refrain, _“Take good care of my baby. Oh, take good care of my baby.”_ Then, returning to his seat, his expression slackened as his heart song passed.

“Zoey?” Max asked, brushing a tear off her cheek. She hadn’t even realized she’d started crying. “Is everything okay? I didn’t -”

“No, she said quickly, knowing he was concerned he had upset her with his song, as he had with the flash mob. “It’s just…He does, Max.” She met his eyes and knew the moment he understood what she was trying to say. “He knows.”


End file.
